Over time, I had turned into the person who solved every problem before anyone else had to experience discomfort.
And somehow, I was now the irresponsible spender.
Grant sat down, sliced into the roast, and after a while said, “Maybe we should separate your spending from the family budget.”
“That’s fine.”
His eyes flicked toward Melissa.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
Then he put down his fork.
“Actually, maybe we need to talk about whether this whole arrangement is working.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Even Tyler stopped chewing.
Then Grant said the word.
Divorce.
Melissa immediately dropped her gaze to her phone.
Just not quickly enough.
I caught the satisfaction crossing her face.
Something inside me became unexpectedly still.
I thought about Wisconsin.
My old apartment in Appleton.
My career as a logistics coordinator.
The promotions I had given up when Grant received his Chicago opportunity because his career supposedly offered greater “long-term potential.”
I remembered every holiday I had hosted.
Every expense I had covered.
Every insult I had ignored.
Every time Grant brushed off his sister’s behavior with, “That’s just Melissa.”
And suddenly, anger disappeared.
All I felt was tired.
“Okay,” I said.
Grant blinked.
“Okay?”
“If you want a divorce, okay.”
Melissa’s head lifted sharply.
Diane went completely still.
Grant laughed nervously.
“Rachel, I said we should discuss it.”
“You already did.”
My fingers brushed the ultrasound photo inside my pocket.
For one second, I considered leaving it there.
