Helen: We're the only family you have, Whitney.
Whitney: We are not a fucking family, and I'm tired of pretending like we are. You are holding on to a myth.
Helen: Okay, I know. You're upset.
Whitney: Yes. I'm upset. I'm very upset. But I'm not crazy. It's obviously more important to you to hold on to a fantasy of being a perfect mom of being the one who held us all together than it is for you to admit that this whole thing is a fucking charade. Dad only cares about himself, and you only care about Dad.
Helen: That is not true.
Whitney: Yes, it is.
Helen: Will you please come back outside and just talk to us. I mean you're getting married in 3 weeks. How are we gonna do that if you're not even talking to us? How is he going to walk you down the aisle?
Whitney: He's not.
Helen: What?
Whitney: He's not going to walk me down the aisle because he's not coming to my wedding.
Helen: Of course he's invited to your wedding. He's your father. You know, he made you. He and I, we made you. You wouldn't be here without us.
Whitney: You don't get it.
Helen: I do get it. I just think you're being kind of short-sighted right now and actually pretty fucking cruel.
Whitney: You know, all I want for myself is not to end up like you.
