Chapter 2
I stood up slowly and walked out of the bedroom. The house was empty.
They’d all gone out to dinner. No one had bothered to tell me.
sat down on the couch. The TV was off, and in the black screen I could see my reflection–gaunt face, messy hair, slouched shoulders.
No wonder they all preferred Sarah. Next to her, I was nothing.
she’d never married. No kids. No responsibilities.
ust freedom–traveling wherever she wanted, doing whatever she pleased.
And me?
‘d spent my entire life working. Raising my son. Raising my grandson. Taking care of everyone else.
looked up at the family photo on the wall.
Five people smiling. My husband. My son and his wife. My grandson. And Sarah.
Everyone except me.
That photo was taken while I was in the hospital with a broken leg.
My husband gathered everyone–Sarah included–and hired a photographer.
When I came home and saw it hanging in the living room, he didn’t apologize.
He lectured me.
Sarah’s all alone, Rebecca. She needs to feel like she belongs. And she’s your sister–I’m doing this for YOU.”
He was so proud of it. When I didn’t smile, he snapped.
She’s your own sister and you’re jealous? You’ve been like this since you were kids. Grow up. Family takes care of family.”
never argued.
The picture stayed. Right there on the wall. In the house I bought.
stared at it now and started laughing. It hurt, but I couldn’t stop.
Thirty years. I’d lived like this for thirty goddamn years.
And for the first time, I thought: What if I just stopped?
I gathered my documents–passport, bank info–and lay down.
(Chapter2
I must’ve cried at some point because when I woke up, my pillow was damp.
The door slammed open.
My husband stumbled in, drunk, reeking of alcohol. He yanked me up by the arm.
“I don’t get it.” His words ran together, thick with alcohol.
“You’re sisters. How is she so elegant and you’re just… this?”
He waved his hand at me like I disgusted him.
“How did I ever think you were worth marrying?”
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