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“When?” I shouted suddenly. “After I killed myself from stress? After bankruptcy destroyed my life? After Ethan and I lost everything?”
My mother burst into tears.
“You have no idea how hard this was for us too.”
That sentence changed something inside me.
Not because it hurt.
Because suddenly…
It didn’t hurt anymore.
I looked at her crying across the table, and for the first time in my entire life, I saw my mother clearly.
Not as loving.
Not as protective.
Not as misunderstood.
Just selfish.
Painfully selfish.
“You let me believe we were struggling together,” I said quietly.
“We were.”
“No. Ethan and I were surviving. You were protecting your lifestyle.”
My father slammed his hand against the table.
“You have no right to judge us after everything we spent raising you.”
Walter Whitaker’s expression hardened instantly.
“She owes you gratitude for parenting her?” he asked coldly.
“Dad, stay out of this.”
“No,” Walter replied. “I stayed out of it too long already.”