No explanations. Just another demand. I didn’t respond.
Another message: “Mom: We’re not leaving until you talk to us.” I exhaled sharply and leaned back in my chair.
They weren’t backing down. Good. I was ready to teach them a lesson they’d never forget. I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs, my anger growing with every step.
I wasn’t scared. I was furious. What kind of nerve does it take to show up uninvited at my door in Chicago and demand money like it’s their personal ATM? They didn’t even knock.
They didn’t even apologize. It was pure, blatant pressure. They actually thought they could corner me and force me into obedience like I was a little kid.
I yanked the door open. And there they were. Mom.
Dad. And of course, Eric. Shoulder to shoulder, as if they were staging a family intervention…
Mom had her arms crossed, her typically critical gaze as sharp as ever. Dad stood there, his face tense, his hands in his pockets. Disappointment and contempt were reflected in his eyes.
As if he couldn’t grasp that he personally had to deal with this. And Eric? That guy had the nerve to look bored, as if he couldn’t care less. As if he weren’t the cause of this whole mess.
As soon as Mom saw me, she adopted a dramatic tone: “Jacob, finally. We need to talk.”
I leaned against the doorframe with my arms crossed: “No. You have to leave.”
She blinked, as if she couldn’t quite grasp what I’d just said: “What?” “You heard me right.” My voice was calm, controlled, but firm.
“You can’t just show up at my door and demand money. That’s insane!” Dad snorted sharply.
“Are you really going to let us lose the house over something so trivial?” I gave a cold laugh. “Something so trivial?” I took a step forward. “You mean the one where you decided I was good enough to pay your bills, but not good enough to be included in your will?” “That trivial thing?” Mom gasped, placing a hand on her heart as if I’d just slapped her.
“Jacob, that’s not fair. We only did what was best for the family.” I inclined my head and looked at her with obvious interest.
“What’s best for the family? You mean what’s best for Eric? Say so.” Silence. A deafening, oppressive silence.
Eric, who had been suspiciously quiet until then, finally opened his mouth: “Look, man, I don’t want to get involved in this. I didn’t ask for anything.” I turned to him and finally unleashed my pent-up anger:
“No. You just sat there and took everything they gave you.” I leaned closer and looked him straight in the face.
“You’re twenty-eight, Eric. Get a job!” His face instantly flushed red.
“Dude, are you kidding me?” You knew exactly what I meant. I took another step forward.
You want to inherit the house? Then act like a proper homeowner! Or do you want to be the spoiled brat? He pays his damn bills.
I straightened up and folded my arms. “I don’t want to be your personal bank anymore.” Eric looked away, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk.
Mom took a deep breath, clearly ready for another wave of emotional strain. “Jacob, he’s your brother.” I nodded.
“Yes. And I’ve been supporting him longer than you have.” My father’s face darkened.
“You’re selfish.” I laughed. Honestly.
“Oh, how ironic, isn’t it?” I waved at them. “You two decided that Eric deserves everything, and I get nothing.”
I leaned closer to him. “And now that you have to face the consequences of your decision, you’re trying to force me to change it.” I shook my head.
“That’s not going to happen.” Mom’s voice hardened. “We thought you’d be the sensible one in this situation.”
Continue reading on the next page
