June replied only once.
I am not confused. My wedding contribution was $10,000 toward the venue. That contribution has been made. I have not agreed to any additional wedding expenses.
Claire did not respond.
Ethan called every few days.
Sometimes angry.
Sometimes reasonable.
Once nearly apologetic.
But every conversation eventually returned to money.
“The photographer deposit is due.”
“Then pay it.”
“The caterer needs a second installment.”
“Then pay it.”
“We may have to reduce the guest list.”
“That is an option.”
“You know family is coming from Vancouver.”
“I know.”
“How are we supposed to tell people?”
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
“That the wedding costs more than you can afford.”
He hung up.
June cried afterward.
Boundaries sounded elegant when other people described them.
In practice, they often felt like disappointing someone you loved over and over until your nervous system stopped treating their displeasure like danger.
Three days before New Year’s, June called a lawyer.
Not because she planned to sue Ethan.
Because of the twenty-thousand-dollar business loan.
The lawyer, a woman named Priya Shah, reviewed the handwritten agreement.
“This is straightforward enough,” she said. “He acknowledged the loan and repayment terms.”
June looked at the paper.
“Can I forgive the balance?”
Priya raised an eyebrow.
“You can.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
“You can enforce the agreement, renegotiate, or simply leave it outstanding.”
June nodded.
“I don’t want to sue my son.”
“Then don’t.”
June looked up.
Priya continued.
