She seemed startled.
I continued.
“Not for needing help. Not for asking. For deciding that because I’d helped before, you could use my credit card to buy Khloe an expensive trip.”
Mom’s expression hardened.
“I was going to tell you.”
“After you announced it publicly?”
She looked away.
I waited.
Then she said, “I thought once you saw how happy Khloe was, you’d understand.”
I stared at her.
“Mom, you knew I wouldn’t agree.”
She didn’t answer.
“You knew because I’d already refused the gender reveal and refused to postpone our honeymoon.”
She twisted her hands together.
“I thought you could take another trip.”
I looked at her.
“With what money?”
She hesitated.
“You earn more than Khloe.”
I nodded slowly.
“And that means my plans are less important?”
“No.”
“Then why did you make that decision for me?”
She looked toward Dad.
He didn’t rescue her.
Finally, she whispered, “Because I thought you’d forgive me.”
I swallowed.
There it was again.
Not permission.
Not agreement.
