I paid his security deposit and first month’s rent on a luxury apartment in Pittsburgh that cost $3,500 a month. What started as temporary assistance evolved into a standing arrangement. Every month, I transferred the money without complaint, telling myself it was temporary. Troy always had a reason why this month was tight but next month would be different.
It never was.
Why did I keep paying? That question haunted me during many sleepless nights. Maybe I wanted to prove I could succeed enough to carry both of us. Maybe I hoped my parents would finally see my worth if they knew how much I was supporting their favorite son. Or maybe I simply couldn’t bear watching my brother fail, knowing how much it would hurt our parents.
Whatever the reason, I kept the arrangement secret. Troy certainly never mentioned it to our parents, preferring they believe he was thriving on his own merits, and I never corrected their assumption that my brother was standing on his own two feet while I was just “playing with computers.”
The dynamic was painful but familiar—until that Sunday dinner changed everything.
The week before the infamous Sunday dinner had been particularly successful for me. After six months of intense work, my team had finally launched the security protocol that would become the cornerstone of our company’s newest platform. The CEO personally sent an email congratulating us, mentioning me by name. My team celebrated with champagne and an impromptu happy hour. I felt validated professionally in a way that contrasted sharply with my family experience.
That same week, I received a frustrated text from Troy.
“Got let go again. Total BS. Boss had it in for me from day one.”
This marked his third job loss in eight months. Each followed the same pattern—initially enthusiastic reports about his amazing new opportunity, then gradual complaints about unfair treatment, culminating in an inevitable termination that was never, according to Troy, his fault.
Despite this setback, Troy remained confident.
“No worries, though. Got something major lined up. Potential six figures.”
I’d learned not to question his optimism directly. It only led to defensive arguments and accusations that I didn’t believe in him.
Sunday arrived with perfect spring weather, the Pennsylvania suburbs showcasing their best features. Dogwoods and cherry trees bloomed along the streets of my parents’ neighborhood. The familiarity of the drive brought mixed emotions—comfort mingled with a creeping dread about the inevitable family dynamics waiting for me.
I arrived precisely at two o’clock, as requested by Mom. Troy’s sleek sports car already occupied the driveway, forcing me to park on the street. A small thing, but somehow symbolic of our relationship. As I walked up the path, I noticed Troy had recently upgraded from his previous Audi to an even more expensive BMW—curious, considering his recent unemployment.
Mom greeted me with her usual warm hug and cheek kiss.
“Brock, we were wondering when you’d get here. Troy’s been entertaining us with stories for half an hour already.”
Dad offered his standard firm handshake from his recliner.
“Son, how’s the computer business?”
He never remembered the specifics of my job despite my repeated explanations.
Troy lounged on the couch, designer sunglasses pushed up on his head, showcasing what appeared to be a new Rolex watch. He raised his beer in greeting.
“The coding genius arrives. How’s life in the digital mines?”
I noticed the watch immediately.
“Nice timepiece,” I said. “Recent acquisition?”
Troy grinned, extending his wrist for a better view.
“Like it? Bonus from the last gig. They might have let me go, but they paid out my commission first.”
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