no longer competing with mechanical ones. He looked up, eyes red. “I don’t expect you to forgive us overnight. I just didn’t want you thinking I hated you. I was jealous, Liv. You made something of yourself. You survived
things I couldn’t imagine. You went to war and came back and went to law school and bought a ranch and every time I looked at what you’d done it made me feel small. Not because you were trying to. Just because I knew I
hadn’t done any of it, and Dad knew it too, and instead of saying it out loud he just kept giving me more excuses and more money and more reasons to believe the world owed me something it was never going to deliver.”
His honesty hit harder than anger ever had. I told him I had spent years trying to carry this family and had forgotten that being strong did not mean letting people walk over me. He said he understood. We sat until the sun
