Sarah’s hand trembled slightly as she gripped the receiver tighter. She could sense Marco’s surprise through the silence on the other end.
“Cancel?” Marco repeated, unsure if he’d heard correctly.
“Yes, cancel everything,” Sarah affirmed, her voice steady and sure. “I want all services to stop immediately. I’m pulling out.”
There was a pause, a momentary lapse as Marco absorbed the unexpected directive. “Are you certain, Sarah? This is for your parents’ Gala, correct? It’s tomorrow.”
Sarah nodded, even though Marco couldn’t see her. “I’m sure. I’ve just realized that my priorities have shifted. Please let your team know. And thank you for all your hard work.”
“Of course,” Marco replied, his voice tinged with respect. “We’ll handle it. If you need anything, we’re here.”
Sarah thanked him and hung up, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over her. The weight of expectation, the burden of familial obligation, seemed to lift with that one phone call. For the first time, she was steering the wheel of her own life, unburdened by the demands of her parasitic family.
She spent the rest of the afternoon recalibrating, redirecting her energy into things that truly mattered. Her phone buzzed incessantly with missed calls and texts from her mother, siblings, and even some of the guests. She ignored them all. She wasn’t part of their world anymore, and she felt something akin to freedom.
Hours later, as dusk settled and the cityscape twinkled to life outside her apartment window, Sarah’s landline rang again. This time, she didn’t check the caller ID. She knew who it was.
“Sarah!” Her mother’s voice was a cacophony of anger and desperation. “What have you done? The caterers have cancelled, the flowers are missing, and the venue is saying there’s no payment!”
Sarah listened, her heart steady, her mind clear. “I did exactly what you taught me, Mom. I prioritized. I made a choice.”
“This is about the seating, isn’t it?” Linda accused, her tone shifting to one of incredulity. “You’re punishing us for a minor oversight.”
Sarah chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humor. “No, this isn’t punishment. This is liberation. You all made it abundantly clear I wasn’t wanted. I just made it official.”
“But this is our family, your family,” Linda implored, her voice losing its edge and dipping into desperation. “You can’t just walk away.”
“I can, and I have,” Sarah responded calmly. “I’ve spent years financing your lifestyle, being the supporting act in a play where I should have been a star. I’m done playing that role.”
There was a long, heavy silence. Then, the faintest sound of muffled sobbing. For a brief moment, Sarah felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of resolve.
