"Aria Weber and I met in college. We've been together for nearly six years. Her family isn't asking for a bride price; they only hoped our family could provide a marital home. How do you want me to explain this to them now?"
Every word came from the bottom of my heart. I wanted them to understand the gravity of what they had done.
Before my mother could speak, my father replied with chilling indifference.
"Can't you live at home? Is a three-bedroom apartment not enough for you? That way, your mother can help with cooking and chores."
I was so angry I actually laughed.
It was hopeless. They were beyond reason.
I didn't bother saying goodbye. I just hung up.
Perhaps I, their so-called son, was born simply to be sacrificed on the altar of their vanity.
Not long after, my phone rang again. It was my mother, calling secretly. Her voice was hushed, likely whispering from the balcony.
"Gabriel... I didn't know you were planning to get married this year. Why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Would telling you have made a difference?" I asked. "You still would have given the apartment to Alex and Maya first."