“I need to talk to my brother,” I said, glancing past her into the open‑plan living room stacked with wedding gifts and suitcases.
She rolled her eyes. “Anything you say, you can say in front of me. I’m his wife now.”
My brother appeared behind her, hair tousled, still in the same shirt from the photos. He rubbed his neck. “Sis, it’s late. Come back tomorrow.”
“No,” I replied. “We do this now—alone.”
His wife crossed her arms. “Not happening. Spit it out.”
I looked straight at him. “You let her call me pathetic on the phone. You agreed I ‘control’ you. Explain that to my face.”
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.”
The neighbor’s camera light blinked red. I heard a whisper: “Family fight after the wedding.”
I held my brother’s gaze. “You’re okay with this? Her recording, neighbors watching, me shut out like a stranger?”
He exhaled. “It’s our life now. We’re building something without the safety net. Accept it.”
“Or don’t,” his wife added. “Either way, close the door on your way out.”