At the family dinner, Dad said, “I’m proud of all my kids… except for the loser sitting at the table.” Everyone laughed. I stood up, placed an envelope in front of him, and said, “For you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day.” Then I left… When he opened it, no one smiled again.

My older brother Tristan is a successful orthopedic surgeon, and my other brother Barrett owns a construction firm that has seen suspicious levels of growth. Serena married a wealthy investment strategist and fills her social media feeds with curated photos of breakfasts that look like they belong in a magazine advertisement.

I was always the invisible son, the one my father never mentioned at his private club or during Sunday services. He had already spent the evening tossing verbal daggers at me before the cake was even served.

“Tell me, Maxwell, have you actually saved any souls today, or are you still just a professional hugger?” he asked while slicing into his medium-rare steak. Tristan let out a soft chuckle while Barrett made no effort to hide his condescending smirk.

“One of my students just secured a full ride to a prestigious university,” I replied calmly as I continued to eat. My father clicked his tongue against his teeth and told me that was nice, but I should call him when I figured out how to make real money.