When I was seven years old, my parents decided it was time to expand the family, and that's how I ended up with a little sister named Chloe.
It was a tough transition for me. I was just starting first grade and craved my parents' attention, but I spent most of my time feeling like an outsider. My mom was constantly preoccupied with Chloe. She'd always ask me to help out with the baby, and there was really no saying no to that.
As Chloe got older, Mom had to head back to work. Money was incredibly tight back then—the mid-nineties weren't easy on anyone.
We ate a lot of homemade "pantry pizzas" back in those days. Usually, the only toppings Mom could scrape together were some eggs and green onions. We didn't complain, though; we were just happy to have a hot meal. Chloe was a sickly kid, and I always felt sorry for her. I'd often slide my own slice of pizza onto her plate when no one was looking, going to bed hungry myself. I never told my parents; it was just our little secret.
***
Several years passed, and eventually, I moved to the city for college while Chloe stayed home to finish high school. Life moved fast—I got my degree, got married, and had a baby of my own.
When Chloe graduated, she decided to enroll in the same community college I had attended. She wasn't thrilled about the idea of living in a dorm, so my husband and I let her move into our spare room.
It turned out that Chloe had become quite the spoiled brat, and I found myself constantly biting my tongue. Nothing I did was good enough for her. She'd complain that my beef stew didn't taste right or that I hadn't laundered her jeans the way she liked. If I had been in her shoes, I would've just been grateful to have a free place to stay and home-cooked meals.
One night, she decided to bring home yet another random boyfriend. I tried to stay out of it, but my husband, Mark, was not having it. He ended up kicking the guy out right then and there.
I never imagined that one incident would turn us into sworn enemies. Mark just didn't want our home turning into a "revolving door for losers," as he put it. Chloe, however, took it personally. She started spreading nasty rumors about us to the neighbors and went out of her way to pick on our toddler whenever we weren't looking. She was completely out of control.
"I gave you the food off my own plate when we were kids, Chloe. How can you act like this?" I asked, trying to talk some sense into her. It was useless. She wasn't even listening.
"Lucy, your sister needs to find another place to live," Mark told me one evening. We had to do something; the tension was starting to poison our own marriage.
I hated the idea of kicking her out, but I couldn't risk my relationship with my husband. Our son deserved to grow up in a loving, peaceful home. So, I made the choice. While Chloe was at class, I packed her things into her suitcases.
"Are you actually throwing me out?" Chloe cried in disbelief when she saw her bags by the door. "But we're sisters! How can you do this to me?"
"Chloe, we can't put up with your behavior anymore. You're going to have to find somewhere else to stay," I said, keeping my voice steady.
***
It's painful to remember the way she left. I forced myself not to look out the window as she walked away. I felt terrible for her, but I couldn't go against Mark. I loved him too much to let her ruin what we had.
Chloe and I still haven't fixed things. She's held onto that grudge, and we haven't spoken since that day. My parents told me recently that she's married now and expecting a baby. Maybe I'll find an excuse to visit her at the hospital once the baby arrives. We really should make peace. I just don't know if she'll ever forgive me.
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