My sister called me a “janitor,” and didn’t invite me to Christmas, Parents told me “I’m a burden!”
Exclusion and Betrayal
However, a significant event soon disrupted our family dynamic further. It was during the autumn of Arthur’s senior year that he began dating a fellow medical student, Maya. She was the talented and beloved only daughter of a family that owned one of the top General hospitals in Boston. Arthur was enamored.
“Maya is amazing, but I’d like to know more about her. Can you introduce me sometime?” I asked him during a call.
“Uh, yeah, sure, but it’s exam period now, so maybe later,” he replied.
This promise repeated over the years, yet I never got the chance to meet Maya. Initially, I wasn’t too concerned, understanding the hectic nature of medical school life.
Though work kept me occupied, an unsettling feeling began to creep in regarding my brother Arthur and his relationship. One evening while heading home from a long day, I unexpectedly caught sight of Arthur and Maya chatting animatedly in front of a high-end restaurant.
Just as I was about to approach them and say hello, Arthur’s demeanor abruptly changed. He quickly ushered Maya inside, deliberately ignoring my presence. Confused and hurt, I couldn’t understand why my brother seemed to be avoiding me.
Then came the disconcerting phone call from my mother about our upcoming family Christmas party, an event steeped in tradition and one I had never missed. Her voice was heavy with hesitation.
“Maybe it’s better if you don’t come this year,” she suggested.
Shocked, I struggled to comprehend her words. The Christmas party had always been a time of joy for us: my mother’s homemade cakes, my father’s dress as Santa Claus, and the special moments of sharing handmade gifts with Arthur.
It was more than a celebration; it was a reaffirmation of our family bonds.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to mask the hurt in my voice.
“Well, Arthur is bringing Maya, and her parents will be coming too,” my mother explained, her tone uneasy, as if she was withholding more.
That moment triggered a flood of memories: nights spent caring for a feverish young Arthur, supporting him through his middle school entrance exams, and the countless sacrifices I had made for his future. These memories now seemed like relics of a distant past.
Ironically, I had already met Maya a few months earlier under quite memorable circumstances. It happened on the day of a cleaning service bid at the general hospital.
After presenting my bid alongside other contractors, I was reviewing documents for the next project in the hallway when a hurried woman nearly collided with me.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing profusely.
She looked familiar, and as I glanced at her name tag, it read Maya. Realizing she was Arthur’s girlfriend, I introduced myself.
“Are you Arthur’s…?” I asked, surprised.
She responded: “Yes, but I’m Stella, Arthur’s sister”.
Maya seemed momentarily taken aback but quickly offered a warm smile.
“Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you from Arthur, but he never showed me a photo”.
We struck up a conversation which flowed naturally, and soon we were deeply engaged in discussion. Maya was intelligent and kind, and I could see why Arthur was so smitten with her.
“Could we keep this meeting between us?” Maya suggested playfully. “It would surprise him when we reveal that we’ve become good friends”.
I agreed, finding the idea fun. However, in retrospect, perhaps Maya wanted to keep our encounter a secret out of consideration for me. After that, we occasionally met for coffee.
Then, the day after the unsettling call from my mother, Maya reached out to meet urgently. Her voice trembled as she spoke. We met at our usual café, and she appeared visibly distressed, her eyes red from crying.
“Stella, I can’t stand it anymore,” she confessed, her voice shaky.
“About the Christmas party, maybe I shouldn’t say this…”.
