My apartment was quiet.
There was no one laughing at my relationship status.
No one comparing my achievements with Connor’s.
No one reminding me that I owed my family another chance.
Just me.
And somehow, that felt like enough.
I used to think being single made me a failure.
I used to think having a family meant I had to accept whatever they gave me.
I used to think that if I worked hard enough, helped enough, and sacrificed enough, eventually they would look at me the way they looked at Connor.
But I was wrong.
My brother had spent years trying to build a successful life using my work.
My parents had spent years protecting the son they believed needed them most.
And I had spent years trying to earn love from people who only seemed to notice me when they needed something.
That night, I finally understood the difference between being alone and being abandoned.
