They Called Me Selfish for Asking Him to Feed His Own Son Chapter 07
A few seconds later, his mom comes back on. “Clara, I don’t care how upset you are-you can’t just take off
like this. You need to figure things out. I can’t go a day without my insulin. And your dad’s heart… If
something happens to him, you really want that on your conscience?”
I take a breath. “First, that house belongs to Derek. Those are his parents. Second, I’ve been handling everything for years. He’s your son. He’s the man of this house. Isn’t it his turn to step up?”
She chokes.
Then his dad’s voice, angry, “His money’s all tied up in donations. How’s he supposed to pay for anything? If
you’re gonna leave, at least settle our debts and get our meds first. Walking out like this-what kind of
person does that?”
I let out a cold laugh. “Dad, yesterday I was begging Derek to help with those exact debts and your meds. You
said you knew your own health. You said I was scheming for his money. You cut off our only lifeline and told
me to stop obsessing over cash. Ring a bell?”
Silence.
But I can hear them breathing. Hard.
Finally, Derek growls, “Fine. Even if you can’t come back, you still need to send money. Leo’s tuition and my
parents’ meds can’t just wait around.”
“Mr. Philanthropy,” I say, “starting today, not a single dollar of my paycheck goes to that house. Not one.
Figure it out yourselves.”
I hang up before he can scream.
Then I turn on airplane mode and put the phone on the nightstand.
Outside, the sky darkens. City lights flicker on in the distance.
I stare at them and feel the boulder on my chest loosen-just a little.
For the first time in years, I sleep without a single worry.
The next morning, my alarm goes off at six.
I shower, put on the training uniform, seal my phone and all electronics into a bag, label it, and hand it to the
front desk.
The receptionist gives me a receipt. “Use this to pick up your devices after the program.”
I fold it into my pocket.
The classroom is on the fifth floor. A lecture hall that fits over a hundred people. Nearly full.
I glance around. Fifty or sixty of us, from offices across the country. Different ages, but every pair of eyes has the same hunger.
The hunger to move up.
For years, I’ve been stuck. Not because I wasn’t good enough. Because I had no time.
Other people went home and studied, attended networking events, built connections. I drove in-laws to appointments, helped with homework, handled endless family chaos.
I turned myself into a hamster on a wheel-running in circles and getting nowhere.
