No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”
“It’s not fair that I worked two jobs to raise you alone after your father decided fatherhood was too restrictive. It’s not fair that I depleted my retirement to fund your ambitions. And it’s certainly not fair that after all that, you’re ashamed of me.”
Blake stopped pacing, his expression hardening as he looked at Amber with new eyes.
“You told me your mother refused to contribute to our down payment when we were looking at houses in Beacon Hill,” he said. “That’s why we settled for living in your grandfather’s old house.”
“Another creative interpretation,” I said.
“The truth is, Amber never asked me about a down payment because she knew I’d already stretched myself thin paying off her law school loans.”
“The loans you believed your father paid,” I added, looking at Blake. “Richard.”
Richard Prescott cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“I never said I paid off any loans,” he said. “I merely congratulated Amber on becoming debt-free and allowed my son to believe I was responsible.”
I nodded slightly.
“An interesting parallel to Amber’s own selective truths.”
The kitchen fell silent as the full implications settled over everyone.
Victoria Prescott, despite her obvious distaste for the situation, seemed almost impressed by the methodical way I was dismantling Amber’s carefully constructed façade.
“So what happens now?” Blake finally asked, his voice tight with controlled emotion. “The wedding is canceled. The house is being sold. Are you pressing charges for fraud or something?”
“No,” I said, softening slightly at the genuine distress in his face. “There’s no fraud here, Blake. Just a daughter who was ashamed of her mother… and a mother who finally realized no amount of sacrifice would ever be enough.”
“But the house—” Amber began.
“Will be sold on Monday to a cash buyer,” I finished. “You and Blake have until 5:00 p.m. tomorrow to remove your personal belongings. Anything left behind will be donated.”
“You can’t do this,” Amber cried, finally finding her voice again. “Where are we supposed to go? All our friends think we’re getting married today. We can’t just—”
“You’ll figure it out,” I interrupted, echoing the dismissive phrase she’d used countless times when I expressed concerns about wedding costs.
“Perhaps the Prescotts will offer you a place to stay while you regroup.”
Victoria and Richard exchanged a glance that suggested this was not a foregone conclusion.
The family dynamics were shifting in real time as Blake reevaluated not just his relationship with Amber, but his understanding of his own parents’ role in perpetuating certain fictions.
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