“No.”
She placed them on the tray.
“For acting like this was ours.”
Nobody rescued her from the silence.
That was important.
Apologies sometimes needed room.
She continued.
“When Derek lost his job, I was terrified. I kept thinking we were one bill away from losing everything.”
Derek leaned against the wall.
“You should have told them about the debts.”
“I know.”
“You told me not to.”
“I know that too.”
She looked at him.
There was no accusation in her voice.
Only exhaustion.
Then she faced my parents again.
“When we moved here, I told myself we were helping you. Then I started counting everything we did as proof that we deserved more say.”
Mom listened.
“The groceries. Appointments. Cleaning. Cooking. I turned all of it into a list.”
She shook her head.
“And when people keep lists inside a family, eventually everyone becomes a debt.”
Dad lowered himself into his favorite chair.
