Dinner had been a grueling marathon of passive-aggressive commentary. Elaine had already critiqued my hair, my lack of a plus-one, and my apartment. But the true main event was yet to come.
As Elaine cleared the dinner plates, Robert cleared his throat. He reached into the breast pocket of his tailored blazer and withdrew a thick, cream-colored envelope. He didn’t just hand it over; he presented it. He slid it across the polished mahogany table with the theatrical flourish of a king granting a fiefdom to his favored lord.
“For the wedding,” Robert announced, his voice booming with self-satisfaction. He picked up his crystal water glass and clinked it against Madison’s. “One hundred thousand dollars. We want it to be elegant. We want it to be an event people remember.”
Madison squealed—a high-pitched, piercing sound that set my teeth on edge. She snatched the envelope off the table and pressed it to her chest as if she had just won an Oscar. “Oh my God! Daddy, Mom, thank you! Thank you so much! Greg’s family is going to be so impressed. This pays for the floral installations and the string quartet!”
I sat at the end of the table, my fork suspended halfway to my mouth, a piece of roasted carrot forgotten on the tines. I didn’t expect a check. I never expected anything from them. But the sheer volume of the number—one hundred thousand dollars—stole the breath from my lungs. It was an astronomical sum.
