His phone started buzzing. He pulled it out.
“It’s Rachel. She’s calling over and over.”
“You should answer. I’m sure she’s seen the Mass General calendar and realized where you are right now.”
He stared at his phone, then at me.
“What should I tell her?”
“The truth. That you met her sister. That her sister is not what she described. And that you have some serious questions about why she lied to you.”
“She’s going to lose her mind.”
“Probably.”
He stood, running his hands through his hair.
“Dr. Morrison… Natalie. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I should have questioned why you weren’t at Christmas. I should have insisted on meeting you. I let Rachel control the narrative, and that was wrong.”
“Marcus, you seem like a good man and a good doctor. But you’re dating someone who asked me to skip a family holiday because my existence would damage her image. That’s something you need to think about.”
He nodded slowly.
“I will. And regardless of what happens with Rachel, I meant what I said in there. Your technology is incredible. Mass General needs this.”
“Then we’ll work together professionally. What happens with my family is irrelevant.”
He left, phone still buzzing in his hand. I made it exactly forty minutes before my own phone exploded. Rachel’s name flashed across the screen. I let it ring through to voicemail. She called again immediately. Then again. On the fourth call, I answered.
“What did you do?!” Her scream was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Hello, Rachel.”
“Don’t ‘Hello Rachel’ me! Marcus just left your office completely freaked out. He’s saying you’re some CEO? That you founded a company? That you’re on magazine covers? What the hell is happening?”
“Marcus came to evaluate my company’s AI platform for Mass General. It was a productive meeting.”
“Your company? Natalie, stop playing games. You work in hospital administration.”
“No, Rachel. I founded and run a healthcare technology company. We provide AI-powered patient monitoring to hospitals. Current annual revenue is $180 million. We employ 312 people. Last month, Goldman Sachs valued us at $3.2 billion.”
Silence. Then:
“That’s… that’s not possible. You live in a crappy apartment. You never have money. You work some boring hospital job.”
“I live in a two-bedroom apartment in Jamaica Plain because I like the neighborhood. I also own a penthouse in Back Bay worth $6.2 million. I never have money around you because I’ve watched you borrow from Mom and Dad for years and never pay it back. And I do work at a hospital—Boston Medical Center, where my company is headquartered.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Google search ‘Natalie Morrison CareLink AI’ and see for yourself.”
I heard typing. Then a sharp intake of breath.
“Oh my God. It’s true. You’re… There are articles. Forbes. Fortune. You’re on a magazine cover.”
“Several, actually.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Her voice had shifted from anger to something closer to panic.
“You never asked, Rachel. You decided I was a failure and treated me accordingly. I let you because I wanted to see how you’d treat me when you thought I wasn’t successful.”
“That’s insane. That’s manipulative.”
“Is it? Tell me, Rachel, if you’d known I ran a multi-billion-dollar company, would you have uninvited me from Christmas?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought.”
“You sabotaged my relationship!” she yelled. “You deliberately met with Marcus to humiliate me.”
“Marcus requested a consultation six weeks ago, long before I knew he was your boyfriend. I had no idea who he was until his name appeared on my calendar. Unlike you, I don’t structure my professional life around family drama.”
“He’s furious with me. He’s questioning everything I told him about our family.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have lied to him.”
“I didn’t lie! I just… I presented things in a certain way. You do work at a hospital. You do live in a modest apartment. Those aren’t lies.”
“You told him I was too embarrassing to meet. That having me at Christmas would give him the wrong impression of our family. That I was struggling and you were protecting me. Those are lies, Rachel.”
I heard her breathing heavily. Then Mom’s voice in the background: “Rachel, what’s happening? Let me talk to her.”
“Mom wants to talk to you,” Rachel said.
“Of course she does.”
There was shuffling, then Mom’s voice, tight with confusion.
“Natalie? Rachel is very upset. She says you met Marcus today and told him some story about being a CEO.”
“It’s not a story, Mom. I am a CEO. I founded a healthcare technology company seven years ago. We save lives using artificial intelligence. It’s quite successful.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t understand. You never mentioned any of this.”
“You never asked. You assumed I was struggling, and I let you assume it because I wanted to see how you’d treat me.”
“That’s not fair. We’ve always supported you.”
“You uninvited me from Christmas because Rachel thought I’d embarrass her boyfriend. You chose her image over my inclusion in my own family. That’s not support, Mom.”
“We were trying to help Rachel make a good impression.”
“By hiding me? By presenting your family as successful while excluding the daughter who actually built something? How exactly is that helping anyone?”
Dad’s voice joined in.
“Natalie, your mother and I are very confused. Rachel showed us these articles about you. They say you’re worth billions. Is that true?”
“My company is valued at $3.2 billion. I own 68% of it. So yes, my stake is worth approximately $2.17 billion on paper.”
Complete silence. Then Dad spoke, his voice hushed.
“Two billion dollars. Approximately. And you never thought to mention this to your family?”
“I mentioned it repeatedly, Dad. I told you I was working in healthcare technology. I told you I was building something important. You told me I had too many degrees, that I needed to relax like Rachel, that I was too serious. You decided I was the family failure without ever asking what I’d actually built.”
“We didn’t decide you were a failure.”
“You excluded me from Christmas, Dad. Rachel explicitly said having me meet her boyfriend would give the wrong impression because I was struggling. You and Mom agreed. That’s deciding I’m a failure.”
Mom’s voice cracked.
“We made a mistake.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Can we fix this?” Dad asked. “Can we… can you come to dinner? We need to talk about this properly.”
“Why? So you can celebrate now that you know I’m successful? So you can tell your friends your daughter is a billionaire? Where was this interest when you thought I was ordinary?”
“That’s not fair!” Rachel interjected, her voice venomous. “You’re punishing us for trying to protect my relationship.”
“I’m not punishing anyone, Rachel. I’m running my company. Marcus came to evaluate my technology because he wants to save his patients’ lives. The fact that it’s inconvenient for you is irrelevant.”
“He’s talking about breaking up with me! He says he can’t trust someone who lied about their own sister.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have lied about your own sister.”
“I hate you!”
The line went dead. Two minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text from Marcus.
“I’m sorry about Rachel. For what it’s worth, I told her we’re done. I can’t be with someone who treats family that way.”
I replied: “Thank you for your honesty. Looking forward to working together professionally. I’m sorry it ended that way. You deserve someone who values integrity. I’ll have the Mass General Proposal ready by Friday.”
The next morning, my parents appeared at my office. David buzzed me.
“Dr. Morrison, there’s a Mr. and Mrs. Morrison here to see you. They don’t have an appointment, but they’re insisting it’s urgent.”
“Send them in.”
My parents walked into my office looking smaller than I remembered. Older. Mom’s eyes were red from crying. Dad’s face was gray with stress. They both stopped dead when they saw the space. The sweeping harbor view. The awards on the wall. The Fortune cover. The credentials.
“Natalie,” Mom whispered. “This is… this is really your office?”
“It is.”
Dad walked to the wall, reading my degrees out loud.
“Doctor of Medicine, Johns Hopkins. PhD in Biomedical Engineering, MIT. MBA, Wharton.” He turned to me. “When did you do all this?”
“Over the last fifteen years. While you were asking when I’d settle down and be normal like Rachel.”
He flinched. Mom sat down uninvited.
“Marcus broke up with Rachel last night. She’s devastated.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Are you?” Mom’s voice turned sharp. “You don’t sound sorry. You sound satisfied.”
“I’m sorry Rachel is hurt. I’m not sorry that Marcus realized she lied to him. Those are two different things.”
“She didn’t lie,” Dad protested. “She just didn’t have all the information.”
“She had twelve years to ask for information. She chose not to. She chose to assume I was struggling and to treat me accordingly.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“Did you come here for a reason? I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“We came to apologize,” Mom said quietly. “We were wrong. About Christmas. About how we’ve treated you. About everything.”
“Okay.”
“‘Okay’? That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say, Mom? Thank you for apologizing after you found out I’m successful? Thank you for valuing me now that I’m someone important?”
“That’s not fair,” Dad’s voice rose. “We always valued you.”
“You excluded me from a family holiday because Rachel thought I’d embarrass her. You told me to skip Christmas so I wouldn’t give her boyfriend the wrong impression. Those are your exact words.”
