for special treatment. I only expected a seat at the table.”
Christa folded her arms.
”If this is about us not spending enough time with you, we can talk about it. But cutting off our financial help isn’t going to make Owen and me visit more often.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Her words revealed something I’d been afraid to acknowledge for years.
She seemed to think that my financial contributions were the price of remaining welcome in my son’s life.
Once, that possibility would have terrified me.
I might have apologized, restored the payments, and pretended nothing had happened.
But not anymore.
I gave her a small smile.
”Then perhaps it’s time we all learned to live differently.”
She blinked.
”What is that supposed to mean?”
”It means I love my family, Christa. But I don’t have to finance your household to prove it.”
She opened her
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