“Actually, Grandma, Mom told me she’s really overwhelmed this year,” I said carefully. “She’s scaling things way back. But I didn’t want you to be stuck alone. So, how would you feel about spending Christmas at my place instead? I’ll come get you.”
There was a pause.
Then a soft, excited laugh.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’d love that. It’s been a while since I saw your apartment. Your mother’s been so busy, she hardly lets me visit.”
“Yeah,” I said, staring at the wall. “Busy.”
After hanging up, I checked the chats again.
My mother had created a smaller side group labeled immediate family only and was furiously typing.
Notifications stacked up.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with Olivia. She’s trying to ruin Christmas.”
“Ryan, you need to talk some sense into her.”
She genuinely believed I was the problem.
That was fine.
She could complain inside her little bubble.
The rest of the family was already making other plans.
Around midnight, my phone lit up again.
Ryan.
Video call.
I answered.
His face filled the screen, tired and annoyed.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “People keep asking if Christmas is canceled at Mom’s. Did you tell them that?”
“I told them Mom wanted something smaller,” I replied calmly. “Which is true. She doesn’t want me there. Remember?”
“You’re twisting things,” he snapped. “She just wanted less chaos.”
“Then she got exactly what she asked for,” I said. “Less people, less chaos, less me.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re taking this too far, Olivia. This is family. You can’t just sabotage Christmas.”
“Funny,” I said, “because she had no problem sabotaging my future the day she signed away my college fund.”
For once, he had no quick comeback.
He stared at me.
“You don’t understand everything that happened,” he muttered.
