No explanation. Just another request. I didn’t respond.
Another message: “Mom: We’re not leaving until you talk to us.” I exhaled sharply and leaned back in my chair.
They didn’t back down. Good. I was ready to teach them a lesson they’d never forget. I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs, my anger growing with every step.
I wasn’t scared. I was furious. What kind of courage does it take to show up uninvited at my door in Chicago and demand money as if it were their personal ATM? They didn’t even knock.
They didn’t even apologize. It was pure, blatant coercion. They genuinely thought they could corner me and force me into obedience like a small child.
I threw open the door. And there they were. Mom.
Dad. And, of course, Eric. Shoulder to shoulder, as if they were organizing a family operation…
Mom had her arms crossed, her typically critical gaze sharper than ever. Dad was there, his face tense, his hands in his pockets. Disappointment and contempt reflected in his eyes.
As if he couldn’t believe he had to deal with it personally. And Eric? That guy had the nerve to look bored, as if he didn’t care. As if he wasn’t the cause of this whole mess.
As soon as Mom saw me, she adopted a dramatic tone: “Jacob, finally. We need to talk.”
I leaned against the doorframe with my arms crossed. “No. You have to go.”
He blinked as if he couldn’t understand what I’d just said. “What?” “You heard right.” My voice was calm, controlled, but firm.
“You can’t just show up at my door and demand money. That’s crazy!” Dad snorted sharply.
“Do you really want us to lose our house over something so trivial?” I laughed coldly. “Something so trivial?” I took a step forward. “You mean the one where you decided I was good enough to pay your bills, but not good enough to be included in your will?” “That trivial thing?” Mom gasped, clutching her heart as if I’d just slapped her.
“Jacob, it’s not fair. We only did what was best for the family.” I bowed my head and looked at her with obvious interest.
“What’s best for the family? You mean, what’s best for Eric? Say it.” Silence. A deafening, oppressive silence.
Eric, who had been suspiciously silent until then, finally spoke up: “Listen, man, I don’t want to get involved in this. I didn’t ask for anything.” I turned to him and finally let out my pent-up anger:
“No. You just sat there and took everything they gave you.” I walked over to him and looked him straight in the face.
“You’re twenty-eight, Eric. Get a job!” His face immediately turned red.
“Dude, are you kidding?” You understood me perfectly. I took another step forward.
Want to inherit the house? Then act like a proper landlord! Or would you rather be a spoiled brat? He pays his own damn bills.
I straightened and crossed my arms. “I don’t want to be your personal bank anymore.” Eric looked away, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk.
Mom took a deep breath, clearly prepared for another wave of emotional tension. “Jacob, he’s your brother.” I nodded.
“Yes. And I’ve been advocating it longer than you.” The father’s face darkened.
“You’re selfish.” I laughed. Really.
“Oh, how ironic, isn’t it?” I waved at them. “You two have decided that Eric deserves everything, and I get nothing.”
I approached him. “And now that you have to face the consequences of your decision, you’re trying to force me to change it.” I shook my head.
“It won’t happen.” Mom’s voice hardened. “We thought you would be the most sensible person in this situation.”
