“I hope you don’t.”
He paused.
“What?”
“Forget school.
I hope you go.
I hope you finish.
I hope it turns out to be exactly what you need.”
He stared at me, apparently searching for sarcasm.
There wasn’t any.
“I’m just not funding it,” I finished.
He tucked the folder under his arm.
Dad rose next, muttering something about the evening getting ridiculous.
Mom was already heading toward the hallway.
I followed them to the front door.
For a moment, the four of us stood in the entryway beside half-open boxes I still hadn’t unpacked.
Mom looked back into the house.
“I hope this place was worth it.”
I knew what she wanted that sentence to mean.
She wanted the house to become evidence of what I had chosen over them.
But that wasn’t what I saw when I looked around.
I saw a place I had earned without demanding that somebody else sacrifice their future to create mine.
“It is,” I said.
Dad opened the door.
Ryan walked out first.
Mom followed without hugging me goodbye.
Dad gave me one final disappointed look before stepping onto the porch.
I closed the door after them.
For the first time all night, the house was quiet.
Aunt Linda was still standing behind me.
I had almost forgotten she was there.
“I’m sorry,” I said, turning around.
“That wasn’t exactly the housewarming dinner I planned.”
She gave me a sad little smile.
“Maybe not.”
Then she looked toward the closed door.
“But I think it was a conversation you needed to have.”
I leaned against the wall.
The adrenaline was beginning to drain away, leaving me tired enough to feel every word that had been thrown around the table.
“I wanted them to be proud,” I admitted.
Linda’s expression softened.
“I know.”
“That’s the stupid part.
I knew how Mom could be, and I still thought maybe tonight would be different.”
“Wanting your parents to be happy for you isn’t stupid.”
She picked up the bouquet she had brought and moved it into a glass vase on the kitchen counter.
Then she straightened one of the stems.
“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.
Not just because of the house.”
I looked at her.
“Because you finally said no without apologizing for it.”
That stayed with me after she left.
I washed the plates.
Put the leftovers away.
Wiped the dining table where Ryan’s tuition folder had been.
The house felt different afterward, but not ruined.
More mine, somehow.
