“Him or Us.”
My parents were waiting at the kitchen table like they were negotiating a contract.
“Sit,” my mother said.
I told them what happened.
My mom cut me off fast.
“This is not what you need.”
“You can find someone healthy.”
I stared at her like she’d spoken another language.
“You want me to dump my boyfriend because he can’t walk?”
My dad leaned forward.
“You’re young. You have a future. Law school. A career. Don’t ruin your life.”
I laughed because I honestly thought they had to be joking.
“I love him,” I said. “I loved him before the accident. I’m not leaving now.”
My mother’s eyes went flat.
“Love doesn’t pay the bills. Love won’t lift him into a wheelchair.”
Then she said it.
“Him or us.”
My voice shook, but I answered.
“Him.”
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