My brother Mateo has always been a walking storm — charming, reckless, and constantly in trouble. When he called to say another woman was pregnant, I snapped. “Get a vasectomy, Mateo! You can’t keep having kids you can’t afford!” I expected his usual excuses, but instead, he said quietly, “I don’t know how to say no. I think I’m addicted to being needed.” I laughed at first, thinking it was a joke, but the sadness in his voice told me he meant it.
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