“You didn’t do anything special. You were just family. You weren’t my saviors. Aunt Linda, you helped raise me. Yes, but that doesn’t mean I owe you the rest of my life. And Sarah, you need to get over the idea that you can just come to me whenever you’re in trouble and expect me to fix it. I’m not your father and I’m not your bank account.”
Sarah’s face turned bright red.
“You think we’ll just sit here and take this? You think we’ll let you walk away without consequences?”
I took another deep breath.
“You’ve made it clear you don’t understand boundaries. You think you can walk all over me, but it’s not going to happen anymore. You want to make me the villain? Fine, but know this. If you want my help, it’s going to come with a price. I’ll give you something, but you won’t like it.”
Aunt Linda’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I smiled, my eyes locking onto hers.
“You’ll see soon enough.”
I could feel the tension rising in the room.
Sarah and Aunt Linda were both waiting for me to make the next move, expecting me to cave or back down, but I wasn’t going to do that.
I had one more card to play, and I played it.
I pulled out my phone and tapped a few buttons.
A moment later, I handed it over to Aunt Linda.
“Here, this is my proposal,” I said cooly.
She took the phone, glancing down at the screen. Her eyes flickered over the content, confusion slowly turning to realization, then anger.
“What is this? A contract. You’re going to—”
“Yep,” I interrupted, feeling a rush of satisfaction. “It’s a contract. If you want money from me, you’re going to have to work for it. I’m not giving you a handout anymore. You want to fix your problems? You can start by doing something productive for once. Sign the contract and I’ll consider it, but no more freebies. You’ll work for it.”
Sarah’s face twisted with disgust.
“You think we’re going to work for you? You think we’re your employees?”
I gave them a cold, satisfied look.
“No, I think you’ll either sign the contract and start taking responsibility for your lives, or you’ll keep crying about how I owe you everything. The choice is yours.”
There was a tense silence in the room.
Aunt Linda stared at the screen in disbelief, her face pale.
“You can’t be serious.”
I crossed my arms, the smile on my face growing wider.
“Oh, I’m dead serious.”
At that moment, the door opened and my mom walked in.
She looked between us, clearly confused by the tension.