What Bloomed After Goodbye

Then I collapsed onto the bed and passed out.

I don't know how long I slept. Violent pounding on the door yanked me awake.

"Mira! Open up! Now!"

I rubbed my throbbing forehead and dragged myself to the door.

Outside—my dad, hooked on gambling, and my younger brother, Brandon.

The second my dad walked in, he lit a cigarette like he owned the place, smoke drifting everywhere.

The small living room filled up fast.

Brandon dropped onto my couch, slouched like he didn't care.

My dad took a drag and went off. "What was that today? A perfectly good wedding, and you just canceled it? You trying to kill me?

"Your mom died too early—no one taught you. A daughter obeys her father, then her husband.

"The Gormans have everything. They didn't even look down on us, and you still humiliated them."

Brandon chimed in, lazy as ever. "Mira, I'm the only son. I carry the family name. Caleb said once you married him, he'd back me, set me up. You're supposed to support me. Now you wrecked the wedding—what am I supposed to do?"

Their logic wore me out.

"Support you?" I let out a cold laugh. "When you blew tens of thousands and Dad racked up gambling debt, who paid it back, piece by piece? Me.

"So how am I supposed to support you? You're a lost cause—and I'm still expected to fix you?"

They went quiet. Then one look at each other—and they switched tactics.

My dad crushed his cigarette and sighed, putting on a sad act. "Mira, I'm old. My health's bad. Debt collectors show up every day. If I can't pay, they'll beat me to death. You really gonna watch me die?"

Brandon sat up, suddenly tense. "If I can't pay my debts, I'll get blacklisted. My life's over. Our family's done!"

"That's on you," I said, cold. "Dad, I told you to stop gambling. Brandon, I told you to stay out of those bad investments. Did either of you listen?"

My dad slapped his thigh, stubborn as ever. "I don't care! You're this family's daughter. You take care of us! Call Caleb. Apologize. Make up with him. Only if you get back together will he help us pay it off!"

Brandon piled on. "Yeah, call him. Hurry up. You're just a woman—how much can you even make? Only Caleb can save us!"

When I stayed quiet, my dad sighed again. "How about this? Call Caleb. Have him come get you. Gives you a way out."

Brandon nodded fast. "Yeah, have him pick you up. Saves your pride too."

Like what Caleb did didn't matter at all.

Right then, whatever I had left for them—gone.

I nodded. "Fine. I'll call."

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in five years.

It rang a few times.

I took a breath. My voice came out calm. Steady.

"Come get me tomorrow."

***

After I hung up, Dad and Brandon both let out long sighs, smiling like they'd won.

Then they started in on me all over again.