During Sunday dinner, my father calmly said, “I already gave your wedding money to your younger sister, she deserves a more real wedding.” I didn’t say anything, just quietly turned to look at my fiancé He stood up, took out his phone, calmly said exactly one sentence — and the whole table immediately fell silent.
Marcus sat beside me at the long oak table I’d grown up around, his hand resting on his water glass, his expression unreadable. The TV in the living room murmured with the end of a Sunday night football game, the smell of pot roast and green bean casserole hanging in the air. Outside, the…
