Because it sounded insane all by itself.
Natalie’s expression hardened.
“We’ll talk later.”
She walked away.
Caleb waited until she was out of earshot.
Then he leaned toward me.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I stared at him.
“Sitting where you put me.”
“Don’t be cute.
You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Silas was coming.”
“It’s your wedding.
You invited him.”
“You knew he would recognize you.”
That accusation was so absurd that for a moment I couldn’t respond.
“You warned me not to speak to my own client.”
“You could have told me he was your client.”
“Would it have changed where you seated me?”
His silence answered faster than words could.
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
Caleb looked around and lowered his voice further.
“You don’t understand how delicate my position is right now.”
There it was again.
His position.
His image.
His night.
I had spent years being told that Caleb’s stakes were always higher than everyone else’s.
When he needed quiet for exams, the house went silent.
When I had deadlines, Mom asked me to work at the coffee shop because Caleb was visiting and wanted the living room.
When he landed Nebula, Dad opened a bottle of champagne.
When I signed my first six-figure consulting year, I was told freelance work was unpredictable and that maybe I should still consider something stable.
Caleb mistook the family’s attention for proof that he was important.
And he mistook my privacy for proof that I wasn’t.
“I understand your position perfectly,” I said.
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then the reception coordinator appeared and told him it was time for speeches.
Caleb straightened his jacket.
Within seconds, the brother who had been whispering angrily over chicken nuggets disappeared.
The groom returned.
He walked toward the stage smiling.
Dinner continued.
So did the whispers.
By the time the best man began his toast, at least three Nebula employees had stopped by Table Nineteen to say hello to me.
One was from communications and knew me from video calls.
Another had worked on the UN research team.
The third simply introduced herself and said, with a glance toward my chair, “I’ve heard your name a lot.”
Every visit made Caleb’s shoulders tighter.
Then he took the microphone.
His speech started beautifully.
He thanked Natalie’s parents.
He praised his bride.
He made the room laugh with a story about their first date.
For five minutes, I thought maybe the disaster had reached its limit.
