I let them have their fantasy for a little longer.
I needed to make sure I hadn’t overestimated just how entitled they’d become.
About halfway through dinner, Brooks started explaining their wedding plans to the table.
“It’s going to be at the Palisad estate in May. Very intimate. Only 50 people. We’re keeping it elegant, exclusive, just close friends and family.”
“Very expensive,” my mom added, sipping her wine like it was holy water, “but it’s worth it for Tyler. He deserves the best.”
Ray grunted.
“Bet that venue costs more than my house.”
Brooke laughed.
“Oh, it’s completely covered. Tyler’s sponsor has it all taken care of. One of his clients. Super generous.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“A sponsor?”
Tyler shot me a warning look like I was treading on sacred ground.
“Yeah, a friend who believes in our future.”
“Huh?” I said and tapped my folder lightly.
Brooke glanced at it, then back at me.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing important,” I said. “Just some boring paperwork, you know, sponsor stuff.”
There was a slight flicker of confusion in her eyes, but she waved it off.
By dessert, the jokes were turning meaner. Someone joked about my old car. Someone else brought up the time I dropped out of grad school after dad refused to cosign the loan.
Brooke laughed a little too hard when someone asked if I was still working at that little company.
Tyler didn’t defend me once.
My mom acted like she couldn’t hear anything mean being said, even when it was her saying it.
I waited until the laughter reached its loudest point, until their comfort was so thick you could taste it.
Then I opened the folder.
“Cool,” I said, not raising my voice, just loud enough to cut through the noise. “Then I’ll let the venue know you don’t need my sponsorship anymore.”
The laughter died instantly.
I flipped the folder open and laid it on the table.
Inside was a signed letter of agreement, a receipt of a $12,500 down payment made in my name, and a scheduled payment plan for the remaining balance of the Palisade estate.
My company logo was on the top of the page.
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” I added casually. “The cancellation fees only, what, 40%? Shouldn’t be a problem for you guys. I mean, you’ve got it all covered, right?”
My brother stared at the papers like they were in a different language.
Brook’s face had gone pale.
My mother’s jaw clenched the way it always did when controls slipped through her fingers.
“What is this?” Brooke asked, her voice tight.
“That friend who sponsored the venue,” I said, leaning back. “That was me. I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I thought it’d be nice to support family.”