The room went silent.Hours later, Adam found me outside, looking guilty, clutching a crumpled envelope. “Here,” he mumbled, handing over $500. “Chelsea called it a gift, but it didn’t sit right.”I took it, my voice steady,

“You didn’t just take money from me. You took respect.”At the next family gathering, Chelsea awkwardly handed me a thank-you card with a massage gift card inside. It wasn’t affection—it was fear, respect, caution. And honestly? That worked just fine.Grandma had made sure they’d never mistake my passion for obligation again.