Chapter 9: Dinner Showdown

Dinner was about to start. Jake probably hadn’t expected to be seated at the main table with me and looked uncomfortable when he sat down.

He shuffled in, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly wishing he was anywhere else.

“Jake, I apologize on my wife’s behalf.”

I kept my tone light, but my eyes didn’t leave his face.

“Don’t mention it, as long as you’re not mad.”

He forced a smile, but his fingers drummed nervously on the table.

I smiled and let it go.

Soon Emily came over. “Don’t drink too much.”

I thought she was talking to me, but she was warning Jake.

She leaned close to him, whispering just loud enough for me to hear, her tone more worried than annoyed.

“Honey, he gets drunk and acts crazy. Don’t drink too much with him.”

I nodded. Don’t worry—if I don’t drink him under the table tonight, I lose. I wanted to see if Jake would spill the truth once he was drunk.

I set my jaw, determined to outlast him if it came to it.

When the food was served, everyone toasted me. Only Jake didn’t pick up his glass.

He just stared into his lap, fiddling with his napkin, refusing to meet my eyes.

“What’s wrong, Jake? Is your beer too heavy?” one of Emily’s relatives joked.

Jake forced a smile. “I’ve heard Emily say Ryan can drink. I’m afraid he’ll drink me under the table.”

A ripple of laughter went around the table, but Jake didn’t join in.

“Oh please, who do you think you are? You want the groom to drink you under the table? Just drink your own.”

Jake looked embarrassed and drank his first glass.

He grimaced as he swallowed, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes flicking toward Emily.

As we ate and drank, the conversation turned to how I met Emily. I told the story with confidence, highlighting how Emily admired me, how she chased after me, how much we loved each other, and some happy memories.

The table cheered at the happy parts, but I kept an eye on Jake, whose smile grew tighter with every word.

I kept an eye on Jake. At first he was fine, but after the second glass, he started sneering.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, lips twisting into a smirk.

“Ryan, let me tell you about our childhood.”

“Go ahead.”

I braced myself, knowing he’d try to one-up me with some shared memory.

Jake started boasting about their childhood adventures, drinking as he spoke. Whether he was reminiscing or showing off, it was hard to tell. Soon his face was flushed, his eyes unfocused.

He told stories about summer camps, bike rides, and sneaking out to fish in the creek behind the old church. Some of the older relatives laughed, but I noticed Emily shift uncomfortably in her seat.

At his most excited, I suddenly asked, “So, Jake, you ever think about why it was never you and Emily?”

I tried to sound casual, but every word was a challenge.

He snorted, drained his glass, and looked melancholy.

He looked down, voice thick with bitterness. The air grew heavy.

“Was it because you were broke? Surely not because you were ugly, right?”

Jake glared at me. “Ryan, are you trying to piss me off? I don’t have your money, I’m not as handsome, but our relationship… I’m telling you, you can’t compare!”

He slammed his glass down, the thud making the silverware rattle. Emily shot me a warning glance.

The tension at the table was thick. Emily’s uncle smacked Jake on the back of the head.

The uncle’s hand landed with a smack. “Drunk again? Running your mouth! No matter how close you were, you’re just a childhood friend—how can you compare to Ryan!”

Already an adult, being smacked like that, Jake couldn’t save face. Fueled by alcohol, he glared at the uncle.

He glowered, his face red with shame and anger. The room tensed, waiting for him to explode.

“What do you know! Just drink your beer!”

The uncle grabbed him by the neck. “You brat, is that how you talk to your uncle?”

He yanked Jake’s collar, pulling him closer. The whole table watched, forks frozen halfway to their mouths.