For a split second, I thought about pushing through the crowd, finding him, telling him what she said.
But then another thought hit me. If this is how she acted before marriage, when things are supposed to be polite and welcoming, how is she going to treat the rest of the family afterward?
And more importantly, how did Jake not see this?
I stepped outside.
The sun was already beginning to dip, casting a soft glow over the parking lot. I sat in my car for a full 5 minutes, letting the heat soak into the seats, my fingers still wrapped around the wine bottle I never got to hand over.
My phone buzzed.
Two texts from Jake.
“Where are you?”
Followed by, “Courtney said she saw you. Everything okay?”
I didn’t respond.
Instead, I opened my banking app.
The transfer I’d made for the ring. It hadn’t been that long ago. And because I’d sent it via zel through my business account, and the funds hadn’t fully settled into his yet due to a flagged transaction note, I still had a narrow window.
I pressed reverse transaction.
It pinged for a moment, then confirmed.
My chest felt weird. Not triumphant, not guilty, just solid. Like I was putting a brick back into place that had been loosened.
I stared at the confirmation screen for another few seconds, then blocked both their numbers.
The wine bottle stayed in the passenger seat. And as I pulled out of the lot, I glanced once in the rearview mirror at the glowing venue behind me, full of people who apparently did belong.
That night, back at my hotel, I ordered a burger, sat on the bed, and posted one single screenshot to Instagram.
The reverse transaction.
10 grand.
Gone.
Captioned simply, “Congrats to the happy couple. Hope entitlement pays better than I did.”
The next morning, my phone stayed quiet. No buzzing, no calls, no texts. It was like the world had collectively inhaled and decided to hold its breath.
I checked my socials once. My post had already gathered a few subtle likes from cousins and old friends who, I suspected, knew exactly what it meant without needing an explanation.
No one commented, not publicly, but my DMs. Those started lighting up by noon.
First was my cousin Lexi.
“Wait, was that real?”
Then my aunt, who always said Jake was too quick to fall in love.