Chapter 4: The Last Straw
Unbelievable. It was one thing to demand money, another to insult my family to our faces. I stared at him in disbelief, wondering what planet you had to be from to think this was normal.
Derek quickly filled my sister in, voice low but urgent. Her eyes widened with every detail.
After hearing it all, my sister’s face was complicated, but she still apologized to the Parkers first: “Mr. and Mrs. Parker, if Marcus did anything wrong, I’ll apologize for him.” She squared her shoulders, voice polite but edged with steel. “He’s still young and a bit impulsive. I’ll talk to him later.”
Her humility wasn’t weakness—it was grace, even as her lips trembled and she gripped her daughter’s hand tighter.
My mother-in-law seemed to regain some face and straightened her back, but her tone was still harsh: “Since you’re here, your family should give a clear answer. Can you meet our demands? If you can, you can take Natalie right away.”
My sister kept her polite smile: “Mrs. Parker, I know you’re doing this for Natalie. Our whole family cares about her. Marcus probably hasn’t mentioned it, but we’ve already prepared a gift for Natalie, and I’ll go on stage at the wedding…”
She tried to keep things positive, her voice steady despite the pressure. I saw the hope in her eyes—a hope that reason might still win.
My fiancée’s mother suddenly snapped, “You’re a widow. Is it really appropriate for you to go on stage?” Gasps and whispers erupted.
My sister’s face changed instantly—she paled, her hand flying to the necklace her late husband had given her. I wanted to smash every window in the place. She’d always been the strong one, the one who fixed my Halloween costumes and fought off bullies in grade school. Seeing her shrink now, I wanted to smash every window in the place.
I was furious. “She’s my real sister! Why can’t she go on stage?” My fists curled so tight my nails left crescent moons in my palms.
Even Natalie blushed and whispered, “Mom, stop it.” For once, she met her mother’s eyes.
But my mother-in-law didn’t care. “What’s wrong with what I said? Widows are special. On such a happy day, it’s not appropriate for her to go on stage. No wonder your family isn’t superstitious—you really have no sense of propriety.”
My sister, usually so eloquent, could barely keep her composure. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She pulled her daughter closer. She just wanted to stand by me on my wedding day, to celebrate something good for once.
She just wanted to go on stage to give her blessing—what was wrong with that?
I clenched my jaw, fury boiling beneath the surface. My sister deserved better—my whole family did. We were marrying off a son, not losing face.
I wanted to argue, but my sister pulled me aside, nails digging into my arm to stop me from saying something I’d regret. She forced a smile. “Mrs. Parker, whether I go on stage or not isn’t important. The important thing is to let Marcus take Natalie to the new house right away. If we miss the ceremony time and delay the wedding, wouldn’t that be a shame?” Her hands shook as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
My brother-in-law sneered, “Sure, you managed to get married at the right time, but what good did it do? Your husband still died early.”
My vision went white. I didn’t think—I just moved. My fist connected before I realized it, sending him to the floor. The room exploded in shocked shouts.
I wasn’t satisfied. I raised my foot to kick him again, but Derek and the guys dragged me back. My chest heaved, vision tunneling. Someone shouted for ice; someone else begged everyone to calm down.
My brother-in-law curled up on the floor, wailing, but nobody seemed eager to help.
I glared at him, voice shaking with rage. “Say one more word and see what happens!”
Seeing my sister holding back tears, my heart ached. I remembered the nights she called, voice thick with tears, asking how to make her little girl laugh again. I remembered her smiling for us, but never for herself. For two years, our family never said anything to make her sad. Even my dad, who never got emotions, learned to tread softly for her.
I never thought my brother-in-law could be so vicious. And right in front of my sister. She didn’t deserve this—especially not today.
My father-in-law was furious—but at me. “No matter what, how could you hit someone?” He glared, not even sparing his son a glance.
My mother-in-law threw herself on the floor, wailing as if I’d killed her son. Her cries echoed, drawing gasps from distant relatives.
Only Natalie kept apologizing to my sister, pressing a tissue into her hand, tears streaking her own face.
With everything spiraling out of control, everyone rushed to separate us. The room was chaos—guests shouting, chairs knocked askew, little kids crying. I stood there, stunned and shaking, as my family and friends struggled to pick up the pieces.
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