Chapter 1
I'd always been the least favorite kid in the family, the classic middle child.
Growing up, the good stuff always went to my older brother and my younger brother.
My parents used to say, "The oldest has a reputation to uphold, the youngest is the precious one. You're in the middle. Learn to be understanding."
So I did for thirty years.
The day my father wrote his will, two million dollars was split two ways.
One million dollars for my older brother. One million dollars for the younger.
I stood there in the corner, like I didn't belong.
The day my father was dying, the family group chat exploded. Everyone was arguing over nursing fees and care arrangements.
I watched the messages fly by, and then quietly left the group.
They called me fifty-three times. Finally, I texted back.
The message made the whole family panic.
*****
My name was Andrew Sullivan, and I was the middle child in my family.
I've got an older brother, Edward Sullivan.
And a younger brother, Michael Sullivan.
I was sandwiched right in the middle, like I was invisible.
I existed, but no one ever noticed.
When Dad's lawyer asked us to meet at Attorney Ethan Clark's office, I was still grinding away at work, stuck on overtime.
Then my mom, Margaret Sullivan, called me, her voice sharp and commanding.
She said, "Andrew, get to Mr. Clark's office at three this afternoon.
"Your dad's will is about to be read."
I asked for the address, and she rattled it off, sounding impatient.
Then she hung up.
She didn't even ask if I had time.
She didn't care if I could step away from work.
They were used to treating me like this, used to me always doing as I was told.
At 2:55 PM, I showed up right on time in the law firm's conference room.
Edward and his wife were already there, having a lively conversation with Ethan.
Michael was sitting next to Mom, head down, glued to his phone.
Dad, Richard Sullivan, sat at the head of the table, his face calm, giving nothing away.
He didn't even spare me a glance.
I picked the loneliest armchair in the corner and sank into it, trying to blend in and make myself invisible.
No one even bothered to say hi to me.
It felt like I was meant to be there, just another piece of furniture.
Right at three, Ethan cleared his throat.
The room fell silent.
"I've gathered you all here today because Mr. Richard Sullivan wants to explain his estate arrangements in front of everyone," Ethan said.
As he spoke, he pulled out a document.
"Mr. Sullivan's total assets, including three properties, some cash, and investment products, come to about two million dollars."
A faint, satisfied smile appeared on Margaret's face.
Edward sat up straighter, pride written all over his face.
Michael put down his phone; his eyes lit up, suddenly alert.
I felt nothing. Not a ripple inside.
None of this had anything to do with me.
Ethan continued reading.
"As per Mr. Sullivan's wishes, after his passing, all his assets will be split evenly between his eldest son, Edward, and his youngest son, Michael.
"Each gets one million dollars.
"Edward will inherit the large three-bedroom apartment in the city center, along with some cash.
"Michael will inherit two apartments, plus the rest of the cash.
"That's everything."
Ethan finished reading and looked at us.
The room was dead silent.
Then Edward stood up and bowed deeply to Dad.
"Dad, don't worry. I'll take care of the family."
Dad nodded, a rare smile appearing on his face.
Mom grabbed Michael's hand and gave it a little pat.
"Michael, hurry up and thank your dad."
Michael jumped up with a cheeky grin. "Thanks, Dad! You're gonna live forever, you know!"
Everyone looked so warm and cozy together.
It was like we were putting on a show, a perfect, loving family for the world to see.
And me? I was the only one watching from the sidelines.
I'd paid for a seat, but never got a part in the play.
I didn't say a word the whole time.
No one even bothered to ask for my opinion.
It was as if leaving me out of the will was just how things were supposed to be.
Figures.
Wasn't it always like this, growing up?
Whenever Mom bought fruit, Edward got the biggest, Michael got the sweetest, and I was stuck with whatever was about to rot.
Every Christmas, Edward got the best fabric, Michael got the trendiest styles, and I just wore Edward's hand-me-downs.
Mom always said, "Edward's the oldest, so he always has to look good. Can't let him wear anything cheap.
"Michael's the baby, so we have to spoil him.
"Andrew, you're stuck in the middle, so you just have to suck it up."
I had been sucking it up for thirty years.
I went from a kid who always had to shoulder everything, to a middle-aged man still carrying the same weight.
I used to believe blood was the reason I kept enduring it all.
I thought family was just the excuse to keep giving, never expecting anything in return.
But today, I finally got it.
To them, I was not even family.
I was just a tool, someone they expected to give endlessly, never asking for anything back.
A tool that didn't need thanks, didn't need love, didn't even deserve respect.
Dad stood up, getting ready to leave.
As he walked past, he finally spared me a glance.
There was no guilt, no unease in his eyes.
Just a calm, almost aloof look, like he was above it all.
He said, "Andrew, Edward's got a lot of responsibilities ahead, and Michael's still young. Make sure you support them."
That was the only thing he said to me all day.
It wasn't an explanation.
It was a command.
He handed me a new task like it was nothing, just assuming I'd do it without question.
He took everything from me, and still expected me to keep giving, like that was all I was good for.
I looked at him, and suddenly, I found it laughable.
All the devotion and longing I'd felt for him over the past thirty years were gone in an instant.
I didn't reply.
I stood up.
Without a word, I walked out of the conference room.
Behind me, I could hear Mom grumbling in annoyance.
"Not a shred of manners, that kid.
"Doesn't even say a single word to his own father."
I didn't look back.
The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, a guy in a suit, looking completely worn out.
Suddenly, I felt like a stranger to myself.
The elevator doors slid shut, shutting out the world outside.
And with it, my past.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the group chat named "The Loving Family."
I pressed and held.
Deleted it for good.