The Fallout No One Talks About
They sold the boat.
Then the second car.
Then the house.
They moved into a condo.
Olivia got a job.
The influencer life ended.
Extended family called me heartless.
Until I sent screenshots.
Arguments stop when evidence arrives.
My parents paid every installment.
Checks. No notes.
We didn’t reconcile.
Trust doesn’t bounce back like a balance sheet.
One night, my mother called.
“I thought you’d always catch us,” she admitted.
“You thought I was an appliance,” I said. “Not a person.”
She asked if we could go back.
“No,” I said. “But we can go forward. Separately.”
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