My fork slips from my fingers.
Jordan goes motionless across from me.
“He what?”
“He says he made a mistake.” My mother’s voice shakes, but the anger underneath is aimed straight at me. “He says he has loved you all along.”
The room tilts.
For one horrible second, I cannot speak.
Jordan reaches across the table and takes my hand.
Mom keeps going. “Your sister is destroyed, and you need to come downstairs immediately. You have done enough damage.”
“I did damage?” I whisper.
Jordan’s eyes go cold.
“Downstairs,” she says. “Now.”
The call ends.
I stare at the phone.
Jordan stands. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.” My voice cracks, so I try again. “No. I should see Lydia first.”
His jaw tightens.
“You have a five-minute head start,” he says.
“Jordan.”
“Five.”
I know he means it.
The dining room is full of morning light, polished wood, and people pretending they are too polite to listen. Lydia is near the far side, crying hard enough that several guests are staring into their coffee like it might save them. My mother stands beside her, rigid with fury.
The second she sees me, she moves.
“You,” she says.
I stop. “Mom.”
“How could you?”
The words hit like a slap before her hand ever lifts.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Your sister’s wedding is ruined because of you.”
Lydia sobs harder. “He said it was always Natalie. Always.”
Heat crawls up my face as the room goes quiet in that awful public way, everyone listening while pretending they have manners.
