”
The betrayal was worse than a terminal illness diagnosis. It was a deliberate and calculated amputation of my life, executed with a smile by the man who was supposed to protect me. For ten full seconds, the only sound in the kitchen was the hum of the refrigerator and my labored, irregular breathing. My brain tried to reject his words like a botched organ transplant. I gave it to him. As if it were an old sweater or a leftover stew.
“You gave it to him,” I repeated, my voice barely audible.
I stood up, my legs feeling like they were made of water, and gripped the edge of the granite countertop—another thing I’d bought myself—to keep my balance.
“Dad, that’s a $60,000 car. I only paid for it two weeks ago. You can’t just give it away.”
“Don’t talk about money like that. It’s inappropriate,” he snapped, his tone instantly shifting from contemptuous to authoritative. “It’s about priorities. Lucas is having a baby. His girlfriend, what’s her name, Jessica. She has to go to her doctor’s appointments. What do you need an SUV for? To deliver groceries. It’s selfish, Elina, to hold onto a family asset like that.”
“A family asset?” I shouted, the volume of my voice almost surprising me. “It’s not a family asset. It’s my property. My name is on the registration document. The loan was paid from my bank account. You didn’t pay a cent for that car.”
