“That sounds like Dad’s problem.”
Her eyes widened.
I had never spoken like that before.
She looked around the hallway.
“Please don’t make things worse.”
“Worse for who?”
“For everyone.”
“What happened to family only?”
Mom flinched.
“I shouldn’t have sent that message.”
“No.”
“You shouldn’t have agreed with him.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then why did you send it?”
She looked away.
That was answer enough.
“You always do this.”
Mom’s eyes returned to mine.
“Do what?”
“Dad decides something cruel.”
“You deliver the message.”
“Then when I’m hurt, you act like you were caught in the middle.”
Her mouth tightened.
“That isn’t fair.”
“It’s exactly fair.”
“I’ve spent thirty-three years watching it happen.”
She rubbed her hands together.
“Your father was upset.”
“About what?”
Mom hesitated.
“About you.”
I waited.
“He said you’ve become controlling.”
I almost smiled.
“Because I planned the vacation?”
“Because you always have to handle everything.”
My stomach turned.
“Mom, you asked me to handle everything.”
“No one asked you to spend so much.”
“You asked for balcony rooms.”
She said nothing.
“Lauren asked for premium dining.”
Nothing.
“Dad asked for the private beach day.”
Nothing.
“You asked me to book the spa.”
She looked down.
I continued.
“Every upgrade came from one of you.”
“You were happy to pay.”
“Yes.”
“Because I thought I was coming.”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
I studied her.
I wanted to believe that.
I really did.
“What are you sorry for?”
She opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
That mattered.
People often say sorry because they want discomfort to end.
Not because they understand the damage.
“What do you want, Mom?”
Her face changed.
There it was.
The real reason she had come upstairs.
“Dad wants the excursion restored.”
I stared at her.
She looked embarrassed.
“He said you already paid for it.”
“I canceled it.”
“Can’t you rebook?”
“Yes.”
Her face brightened slightly.
“I’m not going to.”
The brightness disappeared.
“Tessa.”
“If he wants the beach club, he can pay.”
“You know money is tight.”
“I know.”
