Instead, I turned away.
I walked to the kitchen counter, where a bottle of chilled Perrier sat among the champagne and wine like the one sober friend at a loud party. I poured myself a glass, watching the bubbles climb, listening to the sharp hiss as the carbonation met the air.
The first sip burned clean and cold down my throat, clearing my mind the way a hard decision clears the fog.
Behind me, Kristen’s heels clicked closer. She had always loved the sound of her own approach, like the world should take notice.
“Hey, Denise,” she called, triumphant. “Didn’t you hear? Dad is serious.”
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t give her the satisfaction.
She came to stand beside me anyway, gazing out the window at the pool as if she were imagining where she’d put her lounge chair.
“This house has three guest rooms, right?” she said dreamily. “And that walk-in closet in the master bedroom… it’d be perfect for my clothes.”
She took a sip of champagne, then added, almost casually, “You’re always working anyway. You just need a place to sleep. The smallest room is enough for you.”
Her voice softened as if she were offering practical advice. “The rest of the space should be used effectively by the family. That’s the rational choice, don’t you think?”
I finally looked at her, slow, deliberate.
“You might want to check whether your definition of rational actually matches what’s written in the dictionary,” I said.
Kristen’s smile tightened.
“I’m not giving an inch,” I added. My voice was quiet, but it had weight.
My mother approached with a sigh heavy enough to perform on cue. She wore a pale cardigan and the expression she used when she wanted to appear gentle while still pushing a knife into your ribs.
“Denise,” she said, reaching for my shoulder.
Before her hand could land, I stepped aside smoothly, like dodging a slow-moving obstacle.
“Don’t be so stubborn,” she continued, adjusting without missing a beat. “Living alone in a space this big… that’s lonely. If Kristen lives with you, it’ll be lively. She can learn about business by staying close to you. It’s a win-win.”
She tilted her head, eyes searching mine for the crack she could pry open. “Are you really going to reject your family’s love? Has success made your heart that cold?”
Family’s love.
The laugh finally escaped me, short and sharp. A few people in the living room turned their heads.