Ethan stood so quickly that his chair knocked against the platform behind him.
“Vanessa. Stop.”
She turned toward him in disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
He stared at her as though he were seeing a detail he had somehow missed all day. Then he looked at my mother.
“And you too, Mom.”
Diane’s mouth fell open. “I was joking. Everyone knew that.”
“No,” Ethan said. “Everyone knew Claire was trapped at a table while we laughed at her. That’s different.”
My throat tightened, not because his defense fixed anything, but because it had come five minutes too late.
I took Noah’s hand.
“We’re leaving.”
Ethan stepped down from the platform. “Claire, wait.”
“Not tonight.”
“Please.”
I turned to him. “You laughed.”
He flinched.
I had expected him to argue that he had been surprised, nervous, drunk on attention, swept up in the room. Instead, he lowered his head.
“I know.”
“You heard every word.”
“I know.”
“You knew what I did to help you get here. Not the wedding. Your life. You knew.”
His eyes filled, and that almost made me angrier.
“I know.”
I nodded once. “Then you also know there isn’t anything you can say before I take my son home that will make tonight different.”
He moved aside.
Noah and I walked through the ballroom together.
The strangest part was the faces. People who had laughed would not meet my eyes now. A woman at a nearby table mouthed, “I’m sorry.” One of Ethan’s college friends stood as I passed and quietly touched my shoulder. I did not stop. Apologies from witnesses felt too easy while the humiliation was still warm.
At the coat check, my hands shook so badly that I dropped the claim ticket.
Noah picked it up.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
