{"id":4303,"date":"2026-06-02T02:57:18","date_gmt":"2026-06-02T02:57:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/?p=4303"},"modified":"2026-06-02T03:00:58","modified_gmt":"2026-06-02T03:00:58","slug":"easter-brunch-aunt-said-were-evicting-you-she-doesnt-know-im-her-landlord","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/?p=4303","title":{"rendered":"Part1: Easter Brunch Aunt Said We\u2019re Evicting You \u2014She Doesn\u2019t Know I\u2019m Her Landlord"},"content":{"rendered":"

MY AUNT BOUGHT THE WRONG BUILDING TO EVICT ME\u2014AND EASTER BRUNCH WAS THE LAST TIME MY FAMILY CALLED ME BROKE<\/strong><\/p>\n

Easter brunch at Aunt Diane\u2019s house always looked like something staged for a magazine that nobody in our family actually read.<\/p>\n

Her suburban colonial sat at the end of a cul-de-sac lined with Bradford pear trees and cars too clean to belong to people with ordinary errands. Every spring, Diane had the front porch pressure-washed, the shutters touched up, the mulch replaced, and two stone planters by the steps filled with tulips that somehow managed to bloom in the exact shade of whatever napkins she had chosen for the table that year. The whole house seemed to exist to communicate one thing before you even rang the bell: everything here is tasteful, paid for, and under control.<\/p>\n

I parked my seven-year-old Toyota Corolla on the street behind my cousin Tyler\u2019s Range Rover.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

That was the first little joke of the day, though no one said it out loud. In my family, vehicles were treated less like transportation and more like moral statements. Tyler\u2019s Range Rover said ambition, success, movement. My Corolla said practical, modest, possibly concerning. It had one tiny scratch near the rear door from a grocery cart in a windstorm and a fabric interior that had survived more coffee than most office carpets. It also had no payment, excellent gas mileage, and had never once asked me to impress anyone.<\/p>\n

I sat in the driver\u2019s seat for a moment before getting out, watching my reflection in the rearview mirror. Thirty-four years old. Brown hair blown a little loose from the drive. A blue floral dress from Target\u2019s spring collection, soft cotton, clean lines, comfortable enough for a long meal and pretty enough that I liked wearing it. The tag had said thirty-five dollars, and I remembered feeling pleased because it looked like something more expensive from a distance.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

In my family, from a distance was all anyone ever bothered with when it came to me.<\/p>\n

My phone buzzed in the cup holder.<\/p>\n

Emma.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

You here yet?<\/p>\n

I typed back: Parked behind Tyler\u2019s monument to lease payments.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Three dots appeared almost immediately.<\/p>\n

Be nice.<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

Then another message came in.<\/p>\n

Actually don\u2019t. He\u2019s already unbearable.<\/p>\n

That was my sister. Twenty-eight, sharp-eyed, loyal in quiet ways, the only person in the family who had never treated my life like a cautionary tale. Emma could sit through an entire Thanksgiving while our relatives dissected my \u201cchoices\u201d and then whisper in the kitchen, \u201cI hope you secretly own a castle and never tell them.\u201d She said things like that without knowing how close she was to the truth.<\/p>\n

I locked the car and walked up the driveway.<\/p>\n

The front door opened before I rang the bell.<\/p>\n

Aunt Diane stood framed by her own wreath, wearing a pastel pink dress, pearls, and the kind of smile that had been practiced in powder rooms. She was my mother\u2019s older sister, though she behaved like she was the family\u2019s unofficial board chair. She believed in real estate, etiquette, investment accounts, and correcting other people\u2019s life trajectories over dessert.<\/p>\n

\u201cNicole,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHappy Easter, Aunt Diane.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou came.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said I would.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her eyes traveled down over my dress, my flats, the canvas tote on my shoulder, then flicked toward the street where my Corolla sat behind Tyler\u2019s Range Rover.<\/p>\n

The smile tightened by a fraction.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, come in. It\u2019s chilly.\u201d<\/p>\n

The foyer smelled like lilies, sugar, and expensive ham. Somewhere deeper in the house, music played softly through hidden speakers, something instrumental and harmless. Diane\u2019s entry table held a crystal bowl of pastel-wrapped chocolates, three framed family photos, and a white ceramic rabbit wearing a ribbon around its neck. Nothing in that house was ever casual. Even the rabbit looked like it had been approved by a decorator.<\/p>\n

Diane leaned closer as I stepped inside.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s that little apartment in Riverside?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill just the studio?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

She gave me the kind of look people give when they want credit for not saying more.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do wish you\u2019d let us help you find something better,\u201d she said softly. \u201cThat neighborhood has gotten so questionable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI like Riverside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you\u2019re young. You don\u2019t always understand property values yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was thirty-four.<\/p>\n

I managed rent rolls, roof replacements, tenant disputes, capital improvement budgets, and renovation timelines across multiple neighborhoods. I knew more about property values before breakfast than Aunt Diane learned from a year of dinner conversations with men who said \u201ccash flow\u201d while misusing half the terms. But I only smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll keep that in mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

She patted my arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome say hello to everyone. Tyler just bought another investment property, his third this year. He\u2019s doing wonderfully.\u201d<\/p>\n

Of course he was.<\/p>\n

Inside the living room, the family had arranged itself according to income, self-importance, and proximity to the coffee table. Uncle Paul stood by the fireplace with my father and two other men, discussing the market in voices that suggested they personally kept it functioning. My mother sat stiffly on the sofa, listening to Diane\u2019s friend Nancy describe a European river cruise in the tone people reserve for humanitarian work. Tyler held court near the French doors, one hand around a mimosa, the other gesturing as if he were drawing invisible charts in the air. Emma was tucked near the built-in bookshelves with a cup of coffee, watching everything like she was collecting evidence.<\/p>\n

She saw me and lifted her cup.<\/p>\n

There she is, her expression said.<\/p>\n

Poor thing, Aunt Diane\u2019s said.<\/p>\n

Tyler noticed me next.<\/p>\n

He smiled wide and came over in a cloud of expensive cologne.<\/p>\n

\u201cNicole,\u201d he said, giving me a one-arm hug that felt like a networking event. \u201cStill hiding out in Riverside?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill living in Riverside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight, right.\u201d He rocked back on his heels. Tyler had always been handsome in the way men become when their mothers call them brilliant too early and no one corrects it later. \u201cYou know, I could help you find something to buy. First-time buyer programs are actually pretty flexible right now. You\u2019re throwing money away on rent.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine, Tyler. Thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you though?\u201d<\/p>\n

Aunt Diane had joined us so smoothly it was almost impressive.<\/p>\n

She tilted her head at me with concern polished over satisfaction. \u201cYou\u2019re thirty-four, unmarried, renting a studio in a transitional neighborhood, and working freelance in\u2026 what is it again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProperty consulting.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tyler made a sound that was almost a laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. Property consulting.\u201d<\/p>\n

He said it like I had told them I read auras for apartment buildings.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not real stability, dear,\u201d Diane said.<\/p>\n

I glanced at Emma.<\/p>\n

She was watching over the rim of her coffee, eyes narrowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have stability,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Tyler smiled like he was being patient with a child.<\/p>\n

\u201cNicole, stability means ownership. Equity. Passive income. Real assets. I keep telling people this. Real estate is how you build wealth.\u201d He lifted his glass slightly. \u201cThree rental properties now. Pulling in almost six thousand a month.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s impressive,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

It was not unimpressive, technically. It was just less impressive when you knew one of those properties had a negative cash flow, one had an adjustable rate loan he didn\u2019t understand, and the third was a rented unit he liked to describe as \u201cmy downtown place\u201d because the truth sounded less entrepreneurial.<\/p>\n

Tyler brightened at my answer anyway.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all about thinking big,\u201d he said. \u201cTaking risks. Not settling for some little apartment because commitment scares you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him for a long second.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never been afraid of commitment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo offense,\u201d he said, which usually meant offense had been assembled and was now being delivered, \u201cbut renting at your age says something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cIt says I have a mailing address.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emma coughed into her coffee.<\/p>\n

Aunt Diane\u2019s eyes sharpened.<\/p>\n

\u201cNicole has always had a sense of humor,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI try.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother appeared then, touching my elbow with her fingertips. \u201cHi, honey. You look pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

She meant it. That was the complicated part. My mother, Melissa, had never been intentionally cruel. She simply came from a family where money spoke the loudest, and she had spent so many years listening that she sometimes forgot quieter things could still be true. She worried about me, but she worried in Diane\u2019s vocabulary. Was Riverside safe? Was freelancing enough? Was I lonely? Did I need help? Had I considered applying for something with benefits?<\/p>\n

She had asked those questions for years.<\/p>\n

She had not asked many questions about what I actually did.<\/p>\n

Brunch was called at noon, because Aunt Diane believed meals should begin on schedule even if conversation had not finished humiliating someone.<\/p>\n

The dining room sparkled.<\/p>\n

That is not a metaphor. Diane had polished everything that could catch light. Crystal glasses. Silverware. Serving dishes. The chandelier over the table. Even the glaze on the ham seemed to glow with ambition. Pastel flowers stood in vases along the center runner. Little name cards sat above each plate in Diane\u2019s calligraphy, which she had once described as \u201ca lost art,\u201d though she learned it from a YouTube course during lockdown.<\/p>\n

I was seated between Emma and my cousin Sarah, far enough from Diane to avoid direct supervision but close enough to be available for commentary. Tyler sat across from me, near Uncle Paul, which made sense. Men with spreadsheets preferred sitting near other men with spreadsheets, even if the spreadsheets were mostly decorative.<\/p>\n

The meal was excellent because Diane believed food was another form of proof.<\/p>\n

Quiche with caramelized onions. Smoked salmon. Fresh fruit. Croissants kept warm under linen. Deviled eggs with paprika dusted so evenly they looked printed. A glazed ham, roasted potatoes, asparagus, salad, and bottomless mimosas poured by Uncle Paul with the solemnity of a man contributing to civilization.<\/p>\n

Conversation flowed in predictable circles.<\/p>\n

Sarah talked about her promotion to senior manager at a medical device company and received applause. Tyler described his newest rental acquisition and received follow-up questions. My father mentioned a tax strategy he had read about online and Uncle Paul corrected him using the wrong terms with great confidence. Emma talked about her graphic design business landing a major regional client, and I watched my mother\u2019s face light with genuine pride.<\/p>\n

When the conversation turned to me, it did so briefly and out of obligation.<\/p>\n

Uncle Paul dabbed his mouth with a napkin.<\/p>\n

\u201cNicole, you\u2019re still keeping busy with that consulting work?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAny interesting projects?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA few.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat kind?\u201d Emma asked, too quickly, as if she wanted to open the door for me.<\/p>\n

I glanced at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cMixed-use renovation planning,\u201d I said. \u201cSome tenant coordination. A little acquisition research.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tyler leaned back.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds broad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBroad can mean unfocused.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr diversified.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled.<\/p>\n

I smiled back.<\/p>\n

Aunt Diane looked between us with the expression of a woman deciding whether to intervene before someone else got the best line.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d she said, \u201cat least you\u2019re staying active.\u201d<\/p>\n

Active.<\/p>\n

Not successful. Not busy. Not employed. Active.<\/p>\n

Like I was a senior citizen taking watercolor classes at the community center.<\/p>\n

Then Uncle Paul turned back to Tyler.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, about that downtown condo opportunity you mentioned\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

And just like that, I was released from relevance.<\/p>\n

Emma nudged my foot under the table.<\/p>\n

I took a sip of my mimosa and looked toward the window.<\/p>\n

Beyond Diane\u2019s immaculate backyard, the subdivision curved into more lawns, more colonial homes, more carefully selected wreaths, more lives that looked good from the street. I had spent years studying buildings like that, though not for the reasons my family imagined. People thought houses told stories about wealth. They did, but not the whole story. A house could be overleveraged. A landlord could be cash-poor. A developer could look brilliant for three years and bankrupt in the fourth. A Toyota parked outside a studio could belong to someone with more equity than the man stepping out of the Range Rover.<\/p>\n

My family did not understand that.<\/p>\n

They understood surfaces.<\/p>\n

After brunch, we moved to the living room for coffee and dessert.<\/p>\n

Diane\u2019s living room had cream upholstery no one seemed allowed to relax on, blue porcelain lamps, family photographs arranged in matching silver frames, and shelves of books chosen more for spine color than contents. A tiered dessert stand sat on the coffee table with lemon bars, mini cheesecakes, coconut nests, and cookies shaped like eggs. People balanced plates on their knees and resumed the gentle sport of measuring one another\u2019s lives.<\/p>\n

I took a cup of coffee and sat beside Emma near the end of the sofa.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d she murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cDefine okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t stab Tyler with a shrimp fork.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere were no shrimp.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLucky for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

Then Diane tapped her spoon against her coffee cup.<\/p>\n

A delicate little chime.<\/p>\n

The room settled.<\/p>\n

Diane liked that sound. She used it when she wanted to become the center without appearing to ask for attention. Everyone looked toward her, because years of family training are difficult to undo.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to share some news,\u201d she said, standing near the mantel. \u201cIt affects our family, and particularly our dear Nicole.\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

Emma shifted beside me.<\/p>\n

My mother\u2019s face changed. \u201cDiane\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Melissa,\u201d Diane said gently, which meant not gently at all. \u201cThis needs to be said.\u201d<\/p>\n

The living room went still in that awful way rooms do when people sense embarrassment coming and choose to keep watching.<\/p>\n

Aunt Diane clasped her hands in front of her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs you all know, Paul and I have always believed in property ownership as the foundation of security. It\u2019s how families build something lasting. It\u2019s how you create generational stability.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tyler nodded as if he had personally invented equity.<\/p>\n

Diane looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd for a long time now, we have been concerned about Nicole\u2019s living situation.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother lowered her eyes.<\/p>\n

I set my coffee cup down.<\/p>\n

Diane continued. \u201cShe has been renting that little studio in Riverside for years. Years. Paying rent instead of building equity. Staying in an area that, frankly, is changing but still has challenges. And while we all respect independence, sometimes independence can become stubbornness.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emma said, \u201cAunt Diane, maybe don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Diane held up one manicured hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know this sounds uncomfortable, but family sometimes has to speak plainly.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was always how people like Diane prepared a room for cruelty. They called it honesty first.<\/p>\n

Uncle Paul cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe recently had an opportunity,\u201d he said. \u201cA building in Riverside. Strong bones. Upside potential. The seller wanted a quick close.\u201d<\/p>\n

Diane\u2019s smile returned.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe purchased it two weeks ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tyler\u2019s eyebrows lifted, impressed and slightly irritated he had not known first.<\/p>\n

Diane looked at me with an expression that almost convinced the room it was pity.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt happens to be the building Nicole lives in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Everything seemed to slow down.<\/p>\n

My mother looked up sharply.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Diane kept going. \u201cIt\u2019s an investment for us, but also, honestly, a chance to help. We plan to renovate the units, modernize them, and bring them up to proper market rate. That means the current tenants will need to vacate.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDiane,\u201d my mother said, voice tighter now, \u201cyou\u2019re evicting your own niece?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re giving her a push.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re making her leave her home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMelissa, she rents a studio. It\u2019s not a home. It\u2019s a holding pattern.\u201d<\/p>\n

I folded my hands in my lap.<\/p>\n

Tyler leaned forward, energized now that numbers were implied.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a smart move,\u201d he said. \u201cRiverside\u2019s getting hot. If you renovate well, you can probably double the current rents.\u201d<\/p>\n

Diane looked pleased. \u201cExactly.\u201d<\/p>\n

Uncle Paul nodded. \u201cThe area is gentrifying. Timing matters.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emma stared at them. \u201cAre you all hearing yourselves?\u201d<\/p>\n

Diane turned to me, ignoring her.<\/p>\n

\u201cNicole, dear, you\u2019ll need to vacate within thirty days.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sentence arrived wrapped in sugar and landed like a stone.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve already spoken with a moving company,\u201d Diane added. \u201cThey\u2019re reasonable. We\u2019ll pay for the first hour of labor. Consider it our Easter gift.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father inhaled audibly.<\/p>\n

My mother whispered, \u201cDiane, stop.\u201d<\/p>\n

But Diane did not stop.<\/p>\n

She had an audience, and Aunt Diane with an audience was nearly unstoppable.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know this seems harsh,\u201d she said to me, \u201cbut one day you\u2019ll thank us. You need to get serious about your financial future. Sometimes tough love is the kindest approach.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked around the room.<\/p>\n

Every face held a different version of discomfort. Sarah stared at her dessert plate. Uncle Paul looked proud and uneasy at the same time. Tyler looked approving. My father looked confused, as if the situation had escalated past polite family cruelty into something he had not budgeted for. My mother looked stricken. Emma looked ready to start throwing lemon bars.<\/p>\n

And Diane stood there smiling.<\/p>\n

She expected me to react.<\/p>\n

That was the part I understood with sudden clarity.<\/p>\n

She expected tears. Panic. Shame. Maybe a little grateful humiliation. She expected me to finally admit she had been right about my life being too small. She had built this moment carefully, wrapped it in Easter brunch and family concern, and delivered it in front of witnesses so I would be too embarrassed to push back.<\/p>\n

She thought she was opening a door.<\/p>\n

She had no idea she was standing over a trapdoor.<\/p>\n

I reached for my coffee cup, picked it up, and took one small sip.<\/p>\n

Then I set it back on the saucer with a soft click.<\/p>\n

The sound was tiny, but in that room it seemed to travel.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the address?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

Diane blinked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe building you purchased. What\u2019s the address?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at Uncle Paul, then back to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHumor me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tyler laughed lightly. \u201cNicole, I\u2019m pretty sure my parents know what they bought.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure they do,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Uncle Paul pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, already impatient.<\/p>\n

\u201c742 Riverside Avenue,\u201d he said. \u201cWe closed two weeks ago for three hundred seventy-five thousand. Cash purchase.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tyler gave a low whistle.<\/p>\n

\u201cNice.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pulled out my own phone.<\/p>\n

Emma\u2019s eyes moved to the screen, then to my face.<\/p>\n

She knew me well enough to recognize the change in my posture. Not panic. Not embarrassment.<\/p>\n

Work mode.<\/p>\n

I opened the property management app linked to Riverside Property Group, the company I had formed nine years earlier with my first acquisition, a neglected six-unit building that no one in my family knew existed because no one had cared enough to ask the right question twice.<\/p>\n

The app loaded.<\/p>\n

Diane\u2019s smile tightened.<\/p>\n

The room watched my thumb move across the screen.<\/p>\n

I typed in the address.<\/p>\n

742 Riverside Avenue.<\/p>\n

For a second, while the database searched, I thought about all the times I had tried to explain my work and had been gently redirected toward someone more impressive. I thought about Tyler telling me rent was throwing money away while his own lease payment arrived every month in one of my accounts. I thought about Aunt Diane asking whether Riverside was safe while planning to profit from the very block she considered beneath me. I thought about my Toyota parked outside behind a Range Rover and how deeply my family had confused noise with success.<\/p>\n

The record appeared.<\/p>\n

I looked down at the screen.<\/p>\n

Then I looked up at Aunt Diane.<\/p>\n

And for the first time all afternoon, she stopped smiling.<\/p>\n

\ud83d\udc49 Click Here For Continue Reading: Part1: The School\u2019s Most Beautiful Girl Invited Me to Prom While Everyone Else Teased Me for My Looks \u2013 20 Years Later, She Didn\u2019t Recognize Me, and What I Did Changed Her Life<\/a><\/h1>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

MY AUNT BOUGHT THE WRONG BUILDING TO EVICT ME\u2014AND EASTER BRUNCH WAS THE LAST TIME MY FAMILY CALLED ME BROKE Easter brunch at Aunt Diane\u2019s house always looked like something … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4303","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-reddit-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4303","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4303"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4303\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4305,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4303\/revisions\/4305"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4303"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4303"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redditlovers.live\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4303"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}