“That’s why you shouldn’t have downgraded the rooms.”
I stared at her.
For one second, I almost lost my temper.
Then something clicked.
Even now.
Even after everything.
She still saw the problem as me withdrawing the benefits.
Not them excluding me.
I nodded slowly.
“I think we’re done.”
Mom looked confused.
“What?”
“With this conversation.”
She grabbed my wrist.
Not hard.
But enough.
“Tessa, please.”
I pulled away.
“I’m going to breakfast.”
“You already ate.”
“I’m going to have another one.”
I stepped back into the suite.
Then closed the door.
My hands shook again.
But less than the night before.
At ten, I left the ship.
I had rebooked one excursion for myself.
A private catamaran tour.
The refund from canceling everyone else’s packages more than covered it.
There were twelve people on the boat.
A honeymooning couple from Ohio.
Three friends from Texas.
A retired teacher.
A mother and adult daughter.
A quiet man traveling alone.
And me.
No family.
No expectations.
No drama.
We snorkeled.
We ate lunch on a small island.
I sat at the front of the boat while spray hit my face.
For the first time in years, nobody needed me.
I had forgotten how peaceful that felt.
When I returned to the ship, I found Lauren waiting near security.
She was sunburned.
Angry.
Jason stood behind her.
“What now?”
I asked.
Lauren stepped closer.
“You went on an excursion?”
“Yes.”
“Without us?”
“That was the idea.”
She stared at me.
“We were supposed to snorkel today.”
“You still could have.”
“It was two hundred thirty dollars per person.”
“Yes.”
“You know I don’t have that.”
“Yes.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“I stopped paying on purpose.”
“That is the same thing.”
“No.”
“It really isn’t.”
Jason shifted awkwardly.
“Tessa, maybe everyone could just reset.”
I looked at him.
“You’ve known me for four months.”
He stopped talking.
Lauren glared.
“Don’t be rude to him.”
I almost laughed.
“You came looking for me.”
“Because Mom is crying.”
“That seems to happen whenever money stops moving.”
Lauren’s face went hard.
“You’ve always resented me.”
The accusation surprised me.
“What?”
“You think because you’re successful, you get to judge everyone.”
“I don’t judge you for earning less.”
“You throw money in my face.”
“Only when you pretend I’ve never done anything for you.”
“You chose to help.”
“So did you choose to lie about why I wasn’t coming?”
She froze.
I continued.
“You told everyone I was too busy.”
“Because Dad didn’t want drama.”
