Chapter 3: The Family Divided
“So you’re really going to gamble?” Ethan’s face lit up with glee. He grinned, leaning back and blowing smoke toward the ceiling, tapping his chip stack—a challenge and a taunt.
I looked over at Rachel. She was still looking at her phone, but her hands trembled. I could tell she’d been crying, and my stomach twisted up tight.
She lowered her head, her voice trembling with tears. “Cody, you’re so heartless. I never thought I’d be worth just a date to settle your bet.”
Her words cut through the room, barely above a whisper. My mom covered her mouth in shock. Shame and anger washed over me, but it was too late to take anything back.
“Ethan, let’s start.” I fixed my gaze on him, voice low and steady, hands flat on the table. The click of poker chips and the soft whirr of the ceiling fan were the only sounds left.
Ethan grinned. “Since Rachel’s not objecting, I’ll give you $300,000 in chips.” He pushed the stacks my way.
The chips clacked together. The family watched, eyes darting between us like it was a pay-per-view fight. Someone coughed in the back, but no one spoke.
I gathered the chips and agreed to a $1,000 minimum bet, each round starting with the previous winner. The dealer—a bored-looking cousin—shuffled the cards, glancing at me with a mix of pity and curiosity.
Soon, the dealer dealt three cards to each of us. The room felt smaller, every sound amplified.
The cards trembled in my hands—three Queens, hearts and diamonds winking up at me. Only three hands could beat this: the lowest straight, three Kings, or three Aces. I doubted Ethan’s luck was that good.
I had to bite my tongue not to crack a smile. My heart thudded—finally, some luck. I tried not to look too confident.
Just as I was about to make my move, Ethan suddenly said, “Fold,” and tossed his cards away.
The move caught me off guard—like trying to swing and hitting nothing. A few people gasped.
“Nice hand, Cody—three Queens right away!” While I was still reeling, Ethan reached over and snatched my cards, showing them off to the room like a magician. Everyone leaned in—even the little kids.
A couple of uncles whistled, Aunt Linda’s eyebrows shot up. For a second it looked like the tables had turned, but Ethan’s smug grin made my stomach twist.
I frowned. Ethan’s initial excitement when he saw his cards, then folding so fast—he was bluffing, playing a longer game. I replayed the last seconds in my head, searching for the tell. He was trying to get inside my head.
“Cody, you can’t beat Ethan. He’s way better at cards than you,” my dad whispered, face ashen.
His voice shook, hands trembling. I wanted to reassure him, but the words stuck in my throat.
“Uncle, you flatter me,” Ethan said, glancing at my dad with a smirk. “But there’s no family at the card table, so don’t blame me.”
Some relatives chuckled nervously, not sure whose side to take.
“Watch your mouth, kid,” Uncle Dave gave Ethan a sideways grin, but there was no real heat behind it. He took out a pack of Marlboros, lit one with a rusty Zippo, and blew smoke right into my dad’s face.
My dad coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. Uncle Dave just shrugged and took another drag, looking pleased with himself.
“Deal again,” I said to the dealer, forcing my voice to stay calm. The dealer shuffled faster, glancing at me like I’d volunteered for a firing squad.
This time, the chips clattered louder. The tension ratcheted up. Nobody left the room. Even the aunts at the kitchen counter had gone silent.
I opened my cards—6, 9, and King of hearts. Not great, not terrible. I tried to keep my face blank but felt my heart sink. Ethan watched me, grinning.
“Ten thousand,” I bet straight away, trying to sound confident, tossing my chips with a clack. A couple younger cousins’ eyes went wide at the amount.
“Who are you trying to scare?” Ethan laughed. “One hundred thousand. If there were no betting limit, I’d crush you in a single hand.”
He said it with swagger, stacking chips. Other cousins laughed, clapping him on the back.
I nodded, making a mental note—he was trying to bully me, but still playing by the rules.
I tossed my cards in. “Fold.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from my side of the family. My dad started to say something but bit his tongue.
“Cody…” My dad stomped his feet anxiously, pacing behind my chair, muttering prayers. The pressure was mounting with every round.
“See, Cody? That’s my card skill.” Ethan raked in my $100,000 in chips, scooping them up with both hands, flashing a smile. It felt like he was rubbing salt in the wound.
“Cody, stop gambling. You can’t beat Ethan.” My mom’s voice trembled, her hands twisting her blouse. She looked at me like she’d already seen the ending, and it wasn’t good.
“Just let Rachel go have a couple drinks with Ethan. As for anything else, that was just a joke—we’re all family,” Uncle Dave said, cigarette dangling from his lips, voice oily. The way he said "we're all family" made my skin crawl.
Other relatives chimed in, trying to persuade me to stop. Everyone had lost to Ethan before, but nobody stood up to him now.
“Cody, you’ve only got $200,000 left. If you lose, Rachel really will have to go on that date with me,” Ethan mocked, leaning over, breath smelling of cheap whiskey. Rachel stiffened but didn’t look up.
“Enough talk. Deal again,” I said, sitting with both hands in my pockets, my fingers digging into the fabric. All I could do was keep going.
“Hmph, you’re really stubborn,” Ethan snorted, signaling the dealer to deal again. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his excitement. The dealer shuffled, hands moving in practiced, almost mechanical motions.
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