When we returned to the dining room, I told my parents we weren’t getting married.
Jade tried to intervene, but I stopped her. Before leaving, she had to admit in front of Ethan that the woman in the photographs was with her father and that there had been no affair. I also made her promise to correct the story if she’d told anyone else.
Then I asked Ethan to bring in my overnight bag.
He and Jade eventually left together.
As soon as the door closed, my knees weakened. I was relieved to be somewhere I was believed, but part of me still wished Ethan would return and somehow undo everything.
Mom sat beside me and held my hand while I cried.
After a while, I wiped my face and asked, “Is there still dinner?”
Dad returned from the kitchen with my plate, kept warm beneath foil. He placed it at my usual seat—the one with the chipped placemat I’d claimed as a child.
