“Are you seriously mocking me right now? I work myself to the bone at two jobs, and somehow I’m still supposed to pay for your freeloaders!” I burst out.
Emily sank onto the couch as if her strength had been cut from under her. After the long day, she pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed slow circles against the dull ache there. First came eight hours at the office, then another four doing bookkeeping on the side for a business owner she knew. It had been like that for three years already. The apartment was quiet, except for the steady, lifeless hum of the refrigerator coming from the kitchen.
The front door slammed. Jason was home.
Emily didn’t even lift her head. She only kept massaging her temples. Her husband went straight into the kitchen, and a moment later dishes began clattering.
“Emily, are you eating dinner?” Jason called from there.
“I’m not hungry,” she answered without opening her eyes.
They had been married for seven years. Seven years that had begun with plans, tenderness, and promises, but had slowly turned into an endless chain of arguments, silences, and resentment. Emily remembered their wedding day with painful clarity. Back then they had both been so happy. Jason had sworn he would stand beside her, protect her, be her support. Where had all those vows gone?
The apartment had come to Emily from her grandmother before the marriage. Two rooms, a decent neighborhood, windows overlooking a park. She guarded that place fiercely, because it was the only truly solid thing she had in her life.
Her job at the insurance company was steady, but the paycheck was far from generous. That was why she spent her evenings taking on extra work.
Jason appeared in the living room with a plate of pasta in his hands.
“Working late again?” he asked, lowering himself into the armchair across from her.
“What else am I supposed to do? You know we’re saving for renovations. And it would be nice to have an actual vacation for once, not another trip to your mother’s place.”
At the mention of his mother, Jason’s face tightened. Linda was a subject all her own. Her mother-in-law visited them regularly, always complaining about her health, her loneliness, and how little money she had. And every one of those visits ended the same way: Jason handed his mother cash.
“By the way, Mom’s coming tomorrow,” Jason said, as if it were nothing.
Emily’s eyes snapped open.
“Again? She was here two weeks ago!”
“What do you want me to do? Her blood pressure is acting up. She wants to see a doctor.”
“She can see a doctor in her own town,” Emily muttered.
Jason set his plate down with a sharp clink.
“Emily, she’s my mother. Is it really so hard for you to show a little compassion?”
Compassion. Emily gave a bitter little smile. In seven years, Jason had changed jobs five times. Sometimes his boss was unbearable. Sometimes his coworkers were the problem. Sometimes the salary wasn’t good enough. Now he was working as a manager at a car dealership, and even there, the complaints had already started.
Jason’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then stepped out into the hallway. Emily listened without needing to hear every word. It was Megan, his sister.
That was another never-ending story. Thirty-two years old, two children by two different men, constant debts, constant loans, constant emergencies. And the solution was always the same: call her brother.
When Jason came back into the room, guilt was written all over his face. Emily understood immediately.
“How much?” she asked flatly.
“Emily, don’t start like that… Megan’s in a tough spot. The kids need things for school, and her ex is late with child support again.”
“How much, Jason?”
“About two hundred and twenty dollars. But Megan swore she’ll pay it back in a month!”
Emily shot up from the couch. Her hands were trembling with anger.
“A month? Like last time? And the time before that was exactly the same.”