Chapter 11 - The Family Habit I Had Started Repeating
When I returned to Atlanta, I noticed things about myself I hadn’t wanted to see.
I checked on Gigi constantly when she stayed with Nathan’s parents.
I corrected how other people fed her.
I packed backup clothes for short visits.
I stepped in before she had the chance to struggle.
Nothing I did resembled what Mom had done to Marianne.
But the instinct underneath it felt familiar.
Control disguised as protection.
Arthur visited me one evening.
“I’m sorry.”
“For which year?”
He accepted the question without defending himself.
“For all eighteen.”
I asked why he finally told me.
Dad’s heart attack had frightened him.
“If Mom or Dad died, I would’ve been the only person left holding this.”
“You already were.”
“I know.”
That answer mattered.
No excuse.
No lecture.
No demand for forgiveness.
Then I asked about Dad.
“Did he ever try to stop Mom from cutting Marianne out?”
Arthur shook his head.
That hurt differently.
Mom had made the decisions.
Dad had simply allowed them.
May you like
I realized my next confrontation was not only with the parent who controlled everything.
It was also with the one who stayed quiet because resisting her was harder.
