“If I didn’t care about family memories, I wouldn’t still be in this house,” he muttered. “Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“How was I so lucky with you?” Mom turned to me, brushing my suit. “It’s a wonder you came out like that, considering your father.”
“Kimberly, please save your uneducated guesses for your art world,” Dad said, barely holding back.
I turned toward the window, leaving my parents to insult each other in the background. I’ve listened to these kinds of conversations all my life. Usually, I forced myself to brush it off, but this time the walls in my mind were closing in on me until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“At least I know how to balance priorities without turning every conversation into a performance.”
“Oh my God, enough,” I snapped, ignoring that we had guests less than twenty feet away. My knuckles turned white, gripping the side of the counter.
I’d always avoided love, terrified it would eventually dissolve into bickering and insults, two people making a living hell out of each other’s lives. But as I listened to them, something occurred to me—Hazel would never be like that. She’d never be this span of evil who makes the other person feel awful, hitting where it hurts the most, just because she could.
I turned to find my mother’s shocked face and my father’s confusion at my outburst.
“Hazel was right. You have molded me into this person who doesn’t want a relationship. Because this—” I gestured to the absurd triangle where I was always in the middle, “—this is all I’ve ever seen.”
“Luke, don’t make a scene,” Kimberly scolded me like I was five years old again. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Of course. Let’s keep up appearances, right? Show everyone what a perfect family we are.” My words sliced through the air. “Goddammit, why are you even together? Do you love each other at all?”
Finally, I let out the truth that had been choking me for years. “Why not just go your separate ways?”
A mixture of frustration, shame, and guilt flickered across their faces. For once, Kimberly and Oliver were speechless, a silence so rare it felt like the world had tilted.
“Luke, honey,” she finally spoke, her voice faltering. “Relationships are... complicated.”
“Are they?” I asked, my voice rising. “Because I’ve convinced myself they’re not worth it. All I keep hearing in my head is you two hating each other, shouting, filling every quiet space. You two have been ingrained in my brain.” The silence that followed was louder than any argument we’ve ever had.
“Figure out if you even want to be together. And if not, then divorce. Either way, stop including me in your seventh circle of hell, fighting your battles, dividing assets, vouching for each other’s bullshit. Otherwise, I’m done. Come talk to me when you want to act like parents, and instead of me acting as your lawyer.”
I went for the door, but stopped, my hand hovering over the knob.
“Do you even know me?” The words escaped, raw and jagged, from some deep place I’d tried to bury.
“Son, of course, we know you,” Oliver replied, his voice calm, but the weight in his eyes betrayed him.
“Do you know I’m in love?” I said, my voice shaking as the words finally left me. “And I hate myself for it. Because somewhere along the way, I convinced myself I’m not capable of giving her what she deserves.”
We’d never had a conversation like this, but it was too late now. I wasn’t trying to pin it all on them, too; that’s never been my style. I’ve always been the one who owns his shit—at work, in life, even when it’s inconvenient. Especially then. But somehowI’d never looked close enough to see where this part of me was born. Not until now.
“I don’t want to be like you,” I said, quieter this time.
They locked eyes, and for the first time, I thought I saw something—regret, maybe shame. Like the weight of my words finally landed, but whatever it was, it vanished too quickly.
This moment, for sure, was the low point of our relationship, toxic to its core, and yet, my thoughts went to Hazel and her family. Her dad, specifically. How he built this wall between them. Her ex, who had let her drown in her sorrows after her mom died. My brain couldn’t comprehend how the people closest to her didn’t want her, when I was barely managing to make it through the day.
I let out a weary sigh. “I’m going home.”
“Luke, you can’t leave the party. Everybody will—” Kimberly said, but I was already out the door.
“Let him go,” I heard my father’s vague, regretful voice saying behind me.
I grabbed my jacket and headed straight for my car without saying goodbye. Fifteen minutes later, I was at a nearby gas station, filling up the tank.
As I pulled out my wallet, my fingers brushed the worn paper tucked inside. An old, creased Monopoly bill I’d gotten with my coffee yesterday. I turned it over and glanced at Hazel’s handwriting.
-All debts settled, except for the final night. No amount of money can cover that.
