“No one asked you to.”
I leaned forward.
“And I’m not going to demand identical gifts. I’m not going to measure what you spend. I’m not asking you to manufacture feelings.”
Her shoulders loosened slightly.
Then I finished.
“But you will not come into my house, to a shared birthday party for both of my children, and deliberately celebrate one while reminding the other that he doesn’t belong.”
Cecilia stared at me.
“So you’re threatening to keep Alice from us?”
“No.”
Ethan spoke before I could.
“She’s telling you there aren’t separate levels of children in this house.”
Cecilia turned toward him.
“He’s your stepson, Ethan.”
“He is MY SON.”
“He has a father.”
“That doesn’t change what he is to me.”
She looked genuinely frustrated.
“Why must everyone pretend biology doesn’t mean anything?”
“It can mean something,” I said. “It just doesn’t give you permission to make a nine-year-old feel like a guest in his own family.”
