I was so angry I actually laughed.
It was hopeless. They were beyond reason.
I didn't bother saying goodbye. I just hung up.
Perhaps I, their so-called son, was born simply to be sacrificed on the altar of their vanity.
Not long after, my phone rang again. It was my mother, calling secretly. Her voice was hushed, likely whispering from the balcony.
"Gabriel... I didn't know you were planning to get married this year. Why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Would telling you have made a difference?" I asked. "You still would have given the apartment to Alex and Maya first."
It wasn't a matter of timing. It was a matter of priority. My father cared too much about face, and his rigid thinking meant his own family always paid the price.
"Those things are in the past." She brushed aside decades of neglect with a single sentence. "Like your dad said, move in with us. Living together is convenient. Isn't that good?"
*Convenient?* Convenient for whom?
When I didn't respond, she offered another solution. "Then your dad and I will move out and rent a place. We can renovate the old house for you and Aria."
"Mom, do you think this is just about a roof over my head?" Exasperation bled into my voice. "The apartment you gave away was the home Aria and I agreed on. I told her it was bought. We planned the renovation style together. And now? It's being lived in by someone else. What do you think Aria and her family will think of us?"
My mother acted as if my concerns were trivial.
"It's not like you don't know Alex and Maya. They are practically your siblings. Their family was so poor they couldn't pay tuition, yet they worked so hard. We couldn't stand by and watch. We just wanted to help a bit."
*Help a bit.*
Saying it out loud, didn't she find it ridiculous? What I had, they had. What I didn't have, they had.
I didn't want to drag this out. I just wanted my money back—my savings and my grandparents' legacy.
"How about this." I cut to the chase. "You tell Alex and Maya's families to scrape the money together. Give Grandpa and Grandma's money, and my twenty thousand, back to me. As for whatever you poured into that apartment, you can ask for it back whenever you want. That has nothing to do with me anymore."
My mother had called hoping I would apologize to my father and accept a compromise. Seeing that I wouldn't yield, she sighed, her voice heavy with disappointment.