“We saved for this,” he said quietly, like he couldn’t believe it. “All those months.”
“I called a repair guy,” I told him.
Sam nodded, jaw tight. “Let’s hope so.”
He didn’t yell either.
That’s the thing about Sam. When he’s furious, he gets quiet. And that silence hurt more than shouting would’ve.
The repair guy showed up, took one look at the screen, and winced.
“Ma’am, this thing’s done. The panel’s toast. Honestly, buying a new one will cost the same… maybe even less.”
I felt sick.
My throat burned.
Later that evening, Brittany came to pick up her boys. I asked her to come in.
“What’s up?”
I pointed to the TV.
Her eyes flicked over to it like it was a broken lamp.
“Oh. Damn.
That’s rough,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“Jayden and Noah BROKE it. I called a tech… it’s unfixable. We’d like to split the cost of a new one.
Please.”
They’re kids. You should’ve been watching them.”
“I was watching them. But I can’t control split-second decisions.
They threw a ball…”
“They’re nine and six,” she interrupted. “And you’re an adult. Don’t lay this on me.”
I stared at her, stunned.
“Brittany, please. This wasn’t a scratch on the wall. It was our TV… something we saved a year for.”
“You renovated your living room,” she said, brushing imaginary lint off her shirt.
“Clearly, you’re not broke. You’re just being dramatic.”
The words hung between us like smoke from a fire I didn’t start.
I blinked. “So that’s it?
You’re not going to take any responsibility?”
“Take responsibility for what? You invited them over. You agreed to watch them.”
Unbelievable.
“I did you a favor, Britt.”
“Yeah, and I’m grateful.
But accidents happen. You want someone to blame, go look in a mirror.”
She called out to the boys like she hadn’t just spit in my face. “Come on, boys.
Let’s go. Aunt Alice is in one of her moods.”
Jayden shuffled past me, eyes low. Noah followed, clutching a crumpled piece of coloring paper.
And just like that, she walked out.
No apology.
No accountability. And clearly no shame.
That night, I cried. Not just for the TV, but for every time I’d let my sister treat me like this.
For every childhood sleepover she ruined, every backhanded comment she made at family dinners, and every holiday where she somehow turned things into a spotlight performance about her life while mine sat quietly in the shadows.
Sam sat beside me on the bed, rubbing my back. He didn’t say much at first, which made it easier to let it all out.
“She’s never going to admit fault, babe. You know that.”
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand.
“I know. I just… I wanted her to act like a human being for once. Just a decent sister.
One time.”Continue reading…
