I always WILL be!”
No one reacted or argued. She waited. And waited.
But no defense came. For the first time in her life, she was truly alone.
With a strangled noise, she spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Silence stretched. Then soft laughter replaced it.
I looked over.
Brit was wiping her eyes, but she was smiling.
“You know,” she said softly, one hand resting on her belly, “I spent so many years thinking I wasn’t enough. That there was something wrong with me. But looking around this table now, seeing all of you stand up for me…” Her voice cracked.
“I finally understand that I was never the problem.”
Pit wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You were always more than enough, love. Some people were just too blind to see it.”
“The baby kicked,” Brit whispered suddenly, her eyes lighting up.
She reached for Pit’s hand, placing it on her belly. “Feel that? It’s like she knows she’s surrounded by love.”
I watched as the family gathered around them, hands reaching out to feel the baby’s movements, faces glowing with joy and wonder.
Even our parents stood back, looking lost, perhaps finally realizing what their favoritism had cost them.
And suddenly, I realized something: for the first time in years, Brit wasn’t the forgotten sister. She was the one who mattered most.
And this time, the whole family finally saw it. Not just saw it, they celebrated and honored it.
As I watched my sister’s face glow with happiness, surrounded by people who truly loved her, I knew that sometimes the best families aren’t the ones we’re born into, but the ones we build through love, kindness, and truth.
The baby would be born into a family that had finally learned its lesson.
A family that understood that true love doesn’t play favorites… it lifts everyone up, together. And Brit would never be invisible again.
Source: amomama