I looked at her.
“They already are.”
Her eyes glistened, but I could not tell whether she was hurt by losing me or humiliated by losing control of the evening.
Maybe both.
Dad’s voice softened slightly.
“So that’s it? You’re punishing the family because we didn’t know about your house?”
“No.”
I shifted my bag onto my shoulder.
“The house has almost nothing to do with this.”
He looked genuinely confused.
That was the tragedy of it.
“The house is just the first thing important enough for you to notice how little you know about me.”
Nobody spoke.
Behind us, the music continued at a careful volume while the DJ pretended not to watch.
Brooke wiped beneath one eye before any tear could disturb her makeup.
I stepped toward her.
“This is still your engagement party,” I said.
“You deserve to enjoy it.”
She looked at me helplessly.
“Are you mad at me?”
I considered the question.
“I’m hurt by you,” I said.
“That isn’t exactly the same thing.”
She nodded slowly.
Michael stayed beside her without interfering.
I appreciated him for that.
Then James picked up his suitcase.
“I’ll walk you out.”
Dad stared at him.
“You just got here.”
“I know.”
“You came for Brooke.”
“I came for the family.”
His eyes moved between my father and mother.
“And apparently the family has some things to think about.”
We crossed the room together.
I felt eyes following us, but for once I did not care what story anyone told after I left.
At the coat check, James stood beside me while I collected my coat.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“The house comment.
I assumed they knew.”
“They should have.”
He looked at me carefully.
“Are you okay?”
It was such a simple question.
And because it came from someone who actually wanted the answer, it nearly undid me.
“I think I will be.”
Outside, the night air felt colder than I expected.
James hugged me again.
Behind the glass doors, I could see my father standing near the bar and my mother speaking urgently to Brooke.
For years I had imagined walking away from my family as something explosive—shouting, accusations, doors slammed hard enough to shake walls.
Instead, it was quiet.
I simply stopped volunteering for the role they had written for me.
In the weeks afterward, Mom called repeatedly.
At first her messages were defensive.
