Her lip quivered.
“That wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, Daniel. It was a joke.”
I asked quietly.
She hesitated, looking down.
“More like a message. You always act like you’re the perfect one, the one holding everything together. I just wanted to show you that you don’t control everything, that you can’t just throw money around and expect people to worship you for it.”
I let out a breath that came out somewhere between disbelief and a laugh.
“You think I wanted anyone to worship me? Ava, I paid for your wedding because your mother begged me to. I was trying to do the right thing.”
She crossed her arms.
“And now you’ve ruined everything. Mark’s gone. Everyone’s gossiping and mom’s losing her mind. They’re saying I humiliated children. My own step nephew and niece. Do you realize how this makes me look?”
That was the first time it hit me how deep her delusion ran.
This wasn’t embarrassment because she realized she was wrong.
It was fury because her image cracked.
Emily appeared behind me, holding Lucy on her hip.
“You humiliated yourself, Ava,” she said sharply. “We didn’t do anything to you.”
Ava’s eyes darted to Emily, then to me.
“I need you to fix this.”
I blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You have to tell Mark’s father it was all a misunderstanding. Say you overreacted or that you—”
“No.”
My voice came out flat. Calm, but final.
“I’m not covering for you.”
She stared at me, stunned.
“Daniel, please.”
“Do you know what Evan said in the car?” I interrupted. “He asked if he did something bad. He’s six. He thought he was being punished. You did that to him. You made an innocent kid feel unwanted at an event I paid for.”
Her face crumpled for half a second, and for a moment, I thought she might actually apologize.
But instead, she muttered, “You always make everything about you.”
Emily let out a bitter laugh.
“Wow, unreal.”
Ava straightened up, wiping her face roughly with her hand.
“You’ll regret this,” she spat. “Mom’s already furious. She said she’s coming over.”
“Tell her to bring a receipt,” I said, closing the door.
I thought that would be the end of it, but I should have known better.
Carol doesn’t go down quietly.
Half an hour later, our driveway filled with the sound of tires screeching.
I looked through the window and saw her perfectly pressed dress, pearls around her neck, that expression of righteous fury she wore like a badge.
She didn’t even knock, just barged in as if the house belonged to her.
“Daniel,” she barked. “What on earth have you done?”
I didn’t even bother standing up.