I had the ticket. I had the time off approved. Then the new kid called in sick, and the owner looked at me. I said I'd cover.
I missed the flight. I told myself it was just one weekend. But she never asked again. That was three years ago.
The casserole dish on my counter is hers. She brought it over when my wife was in the hospital. I never washed it. It just sits there, dirty.
I pick up my granddaughter from school every Tuesday. She asks me why I never visit her other aunt. I say it's complicated. She's eight. She doesn't understand.
The quiet battle is this: I chose the line over my sister. I chose being reliable at work over being reliable to her. And I don't know how to take that back.