Your behavior suggests a disaster.”
Something snapped inside me then. Not loud. Just sharp.
“You didn’t ask. Or Nora. You took it.”
“She’s family.
Lila shares Nora’s. I was speechless. Not because I had none, but because they didn’t matter.
She didn’t care. “She’s going to a state college,” Sylvia said. It’s not like she’s going to Yale.
She deserves what we saved. Her mother and I planned her future.”
“She’ll manage,” Sylvia spoke, standing. “You’re exaggerating.”
I wasn’t.
Just finished. “I hope Lila enjoys the trip,” I remarked. Because her college fund?
That’s done.”
“What?” She blinked. I no longer support thieves. Stop it, Gideon!” She shouted.
“No. I defend the right.”
She raged upstairs. Soon after, Lila came down, crying.
You’re cruel! This journey matters!”
“You didn’t ask,” I said. “You took it.”
My mom said it was fine!
And you trusted her. Why not talk? Your own fund.
Why steal from Nora? Sylvia jumped. “She saved more.
Lila’s construction continues. She required it.”
“I’m not starting a fight,” I said. “I’m sick of acting like a family.
You ignore Nora and expect no one to notice. But I’m done.”
“Gideon—”
“No.”
I slept in the guest room. I couldn’t sleep with a daughter-betrayer.
Sylvia’s mother contacted the next day to offer repayment. She advised me to contemplate “the bigger picture.”
Any big picture? Daughter robbed.
My wife ignored it. Now I’m meant to ignore it? Nora didn’t inquire what happened when she got home.
She was aware. Lila probably told her. I found her on the porch later.
I gave her cake. “I didn’t want to upset you, Dad,” she muttered. “You did nothing wrong, Nora,” I said.
“She made me feel bad for having it. To save. I’ll never forget their gaze.”
“You’re not selfish,” I said.
She nodded uncertainly. Like when she was little, I held her hand. She squeezed and released.
“Eat,” I said. “Your favorite.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Three days later, Sylvia cornered me. New nails.
Red. Pointed. “Are we really splitting over money?”
“It’s not money,” I said.
“What it represented.”
“You’re acting like I broke the law.”
“You hurt my daughter.”
She’s not the only one important.”
It says it everything. She never loved Nora. Put up with her.
“She matters to me,” I said. “She’s everything.”
Sylvia sneered. Picked up bag.
Slammed door. I let her go. College starts soon for Nora.
She has enough. Just barely. The hurt?
That goes beyond money. Lila hasn’t talked. Only bills are texted by Sylvia.
No apology. No regrets. Only silence.
And I? Sitting on the porch swing. Despite cold.
I consider the lost money. Nora weeps. Sylvia shrugs.
But I have no regrets. Some call it bias. I call it fatherhood.
