He shifted weight, avoiding my eyes. “It’s not like that exactly. You always act like you know what’s best for me—paying bills, planning my future. It makes me feel like I can’t stand on my own.”
“Stand on your own,” I kept my voice level. “The condo mortgage? That’s three hundred and ten thousand total I’ve put in—down payment, monthly hits—the car insurance, and the Europe fund. All from my accounts.”
His wife smirked, phone now recording subtly at her side. “We appreciate the head start, really. But Dylan landed a major influencer deal today. Energy drink brand—six figures over two years. My posts from the wedding already pulled fifty thousand likes. We’ll refinance the condo, pay you back eventually. No more handouts needed.”
I noticed movement down the hall. A neighbor in sweats peeking out, phone up, filming the whole exchange. Another door creaked open across the way. Voices murmured. My brother noticed too and stepped forward.
“See? This is what I mean. You show up unannounced. Turn everything into a scene. Just go home, sis.”
His wife leaned against the frame. “Yeah, before this ends up online. You don’t want to look desperate in front of the whole building.”