Dad forgot to hang up the call. «She’s nothing! A failure, should’ve never been born…

By the time I returned home that evening, I had a signed purchase agreement and a closing date, June 17th, exactly three weeks away. The buyers had waived the inspection contingency based on the home’s age and condition, requiring only a standard appraisal for their lender. Meanwhile, Melissa in Denver had found me a perfect apartment, a two-bedroom with mountain views in a secure building downtown, walking distance to my new office.

I can hold it with a deposit, she said. It’ll be available June 20th, if that timing works for you. Three days after closing, just enough time to drive from Chicago to Denver with whatever possessions I decided to keep.

The next phase was sorting and packing. I hired a professional organizer, Laura Bennett, who specialized in downsizing. Think of it as curating your life, she suggested as we stood in my bedroom, surveying the accumulated possessions of my adult life.

Keep only what serves your new chapter. Together, we created three categories, keep, sell-slash-donate, and discard. My wardrobe was ruthlessly edited, the formal business attire of Chicago banking giving way to Denver’s more casual tech culture.

Furniture that wouldn’t fit in my new apartment was consigned to high-end resale shops. Books were boxed for donation to the local library, save for a carefully selected collection I couldn’t bear to part with. My colleague Danielle volunteered to help one weekend, arriving with coffee and an efficient attitude that matched my own.

Victoria’s in denial. She confided as we wrapped framed photographs in bubble wrap. She keeps telling everyone you’ll change your mind before the transfer paperwork goes through.

Not a chance, I replied, carefully packing away a photo of my college graduation, the only one where both my parents appeared genuinely proud of me. Had that been real, or just for the camera? As we worked, memories surfaced of my ex-boyfriend Connor, who’d never understood my family dynamics. You drop everything whenever they call, he’d complain during our last fight.

It’s like you’re their parent, not the other way around. I’d ended things shortly after, convinced he was being selfish for not understanding my family obligations. Now I wondered if he’d seen what I’d been blind to all along.

By the second week the house was half-packed, my life sorted into neat labeled boxes. The Denver job offer had been formalized, with a generous relocation package and starting salary that exceeded my Chicago position. Victoria had reluctantly processed my transfer request, extracting a promise that I’d train my replacement before leaving.

My parents’ efforts to find their own place had been half-hearted at best. My father made a show of circling apartment listings in the newspaper but complained that everything was too expensive or too small. My mother mentioned moving in with Heather temporarily with increasing frequency, despite Heather’s obvious reluctance during our family calls.

Three days before closing, I returned home to find them waiting for me in the living room, Heather beside them looking uncomfortable. The formal arrangement of furniture, them on the sofa, a chair positioned opposite, made it clear this was an intervention. We need to talk, my father began, using the authoritative tone that had once sent me scrambling to please him.

This has gone far enough. Far enough. I repeated, setting my purse down but remaining standing.

The movers come tomorrow. The closing is in three days. This isn’t a negotiation.

Audrey, please sit down, my mother said, patting the chair they’d positioned like defendants before a judge. We’re worried about you. Heather nodded, though her expression was conflicted.

We just want to understand what’s happening. This isn’t like you. I sat, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap, the poised professional even in the midst of family drama.

What exactly isn’t like me? Making a career decision? Moving to a new city? Millions of people do these things every day. Abandoning your family without warning, my father clarified, his jaw tight. Throwing your parents out of their home.

It’s not abandonment, it’s relocation. And it’s not their home, it’s mine. Heather winced at my tone, but I continued.

I’ve given you three weeks’ notice, which is more than fair. Fair? My mother’s voice rose, tears already gathering. She’d always been able to cry on command, a skill I’d both envied and resented.

After everything we’ve done for you. The question hung in the air, so absurd I almost laughed. Everything they’d done for me? What exactly did they think that entailed? Mom, Heather interjected gently, maybe we should focus on solutions.

Audrey has made her decision about the house. My father wasn’t ready to concede. No daughter who respected her parents would do this.

It’s selfish and ungrateful. I expected better from you, Audrey. You’ve always been a disappointment, but this takes it to a new level.

There it was, a disappointment. The same word he’d used with Stanley, not knowing I could hear. The final threat of my restraints snapped.

A disappointment? I repeated, my voice deadly calm. Like when you told Stanley I was nothing, a failure, should have never been born? The color drained from my father’s face. Beside him, my mother went completely still.

That’s right, I continued, my eyes locked on his. Three weeks ago, you forgot to hang up your call properly. I heard everything…