Chapter 8 - The Price of Pride
Tiffany stood frozen on the bottom step, her face turning pale as paper as her own daughter exposed her lie in front of everyone.
Kevin snapped his head toward his wife, his grief turning into instant, blinding shock.
"You told her Mom agreed?!" Kevin roared, stepping toward Tiffany. "You told Kayla that Mom wanted us to go to Rosewood?!"
"Kevin, listen to me—" Tiffany stammered, backing away toward the car.
"You lied to me!" Kevin yelled, his voice echoing across the quiet neighborhood street. "You told me Mom was fine with it! You told me Mom was exhausted and didn't want seventy-five people in her yard!"
"You didn't check on her either, Kevin!" Tiffany screamed back, her posture turning defensive and ugly. "You walked right out that gate! You wanted to go to Rosewood just as much as I did because you were embarrassed of this old house and these old people!"
The ugly truth hung in the morning air like thick, toxic smoke.
They stood in our driveway, screaming at each other, laying bare eight years of hollow ambition, fake status, and cheap pride.
"Enough," I said.
The word snapped across the yard like a whip.
Both of them stopped, looking up at me.
"Get off my lawn, Kevin," I said calmly.
Kevin blinked, looking as if I had hit him with a hammer. "Dad... what?"
"You heard your father, son," Gloria said, her arm still wrapped around Kayla’s shoulders. "Take your wife and leave."
"Mom, please!" Kevin begged, taking a step toward her, his hands outstretched. "My job... my career... if you don't release a statement saying we reconciled, Apex is going to fire me! They've already pulled me off the expansion project!"
"Then you will learn how to build something new, Kevin," I said coldly. "Just like your mother and I did when the lumber mill shut down in '88. You’ll work hard, you’ll learn humility, and maybe... just maybe... you’ll become a man your daughter can be proud of."
"Dad, you can't do this to me!" Kevin yelled, tears spilling down his face again. "I'm your son!"
"And Gloria is your mother," I replied, staring him down until he lowered his eyes. "A son doesn't let his mother burn her hands to cook for him and then walk away without taking a bite."
I looked at Kayla. "Sweetheart, do you want to stay here with your grandmother today?"
Kayla nodded rapidly against Gloria’s shoulder. "Yes. Please. I don't want to go back to that house."
"Go inside and get some breakfast, Kayla," Gloria said softly, kissing her cheek. "There's fresh fruit and tea in the kitchen."
Kayla walked through the front door, leaving the four of us standing on the porch.
I looked at Kevin one last time.
May you like
"Leave, Kevin," I said. "When you're ready to apologize to your mother—not because of your company, not because of the internet, but because you broke her heart—you know where we live."
I took Gloria’s uninjured hand, turned around, and walked inside our home, closing the heavy oak door behind us.
