I covered it.
Every time, she promised repayment.
She never paid me back.
I never asked.
Mom always had the same explanation.
Jessica was more fragile than me.
She felt things more deeply.
As if I didn’t feel anything.
Last year, I turned thirty.
It was a Saturday, and I had looked forward to it all month. I even booked a table at an Italian restaurant I’d wanted to try.
I didn’t remind anyone because I assumed your family remembers your birthday.
Jessica posted an Instagram story from brunch with
