“When will it be finished?”
“Why is it taking so long?”
“Can we upgrade the kitchen countertops?”
Lissa’s comments were the worst. “Mrs. Barbara, I heard housewarming parties in that neighborhood are quite elaborate. Can you handle that expense? I don’t want us to look cheap in front of our guests.”
I bit my tongue and said nothing.
The housewarming party. That’s all they cared about—the moment they could show off their new house to their wealthy friends, never mentioning who had actually paid for every single thing.
The invitations went out to Lissa’s elite social circle. Luxury catering was ordered. Imported flowers were arranged. Custom uniforms were designed for the serving staff.
My role? Wire the money.
That’s it.
One evening, I returned to my penthouse where Raphael and Lissa had been living since their wedding. I found them in the living room with Mrs. Lucia, laughing together while looking at fabric samples for the party staff uniforms.
“Oh, Mrs. Barbara, you’re back,” Lissa said with false sweetness.
Lucia glanced up briefly, then returned to examining fabrics.
“Everything all right?” I asked quietly.
“Perfect, Mom,” Raphael said, his voice filled with excitement. “Tomorrow’s going to be the most elegant party anyone’s ever seen.”
“Good,” I replied. “I finished the final payment for the house today. Everything’s settled.”
I waited for someone to say thank you.
Nobody did.
Lucia simply nodded. “Well, it was your responsibility anyway,” she said coldly, turning back to Raphael. “I think gold trim looks more sophisticated than silver.”
“Yes,” Lissa agreed. “Our guests will be so impressed with the details.”
She looked at me then, her smile tight. “Mrs. Barbara, make sure everything looks proper. After all, this is for your son’s happiness.”
Her words cut like a knife.
Responsibility. That’s what my money had become to them—an obligation, not a gift.
Raphael saw my face and tried to smooth things over. “You must be tired, Mom. Go rest.”
Leave a Comment