Chapter 4

When my father's sister, Aunt Alicia, opened the door, I saw that the house was already packed with people.

She looked first at my folder, then at my face.

"Your dad has high blood pressure, so try not to speak too harshly."

"He's planning on making me apologize publicly. Is that not harsh?"

She opened the door wider and said nothing more.

The table was set with the medication my father regularly took, alongside two unsealed bottles of liquor.

As soon as I sat down, my uncle, Uncle Richard, pushed a wine glass toward me.

"Jack, the wedding incident is already over. Your father had to explain your behavior to the guests on your behalf."

"Explain what?"

"Young people break up and make up all the time. Just leave the manor ownership out of it."

Ivan sat at my father's right hand side, with Mathilda sitting beside him peeling an orange for him.

Seeing me, she paused for a fraction of a second, though she didn't put the orange down.

My stepmother, Tiffany, propped her phone up against the cabinet, with the camera lens pointed squarely at the dining table.

"Let's all record a statement so rumors stop flying around."

"Whose version?"

"The family's."

My father pushed the declaration statement toward me.

The name Jack Shore on the paper was printed, while the signature line remained blank. The words in my cousin's photo were merely a formatted template.

"Read it aloud, then sign it. I'll send it to everyone who attended the wedding tomorrow morning."

I pushed the paper back.

"It was indeed my decision to cancel the wedding. That part can be sent."

"What about the rest?"

"There is no 'the rest'."

Suppressing his temper, my father said that Ivan's marriage arrangements hadn't been finalized yet and he needed a place to live.

"You can live in the family manor too. What's wrong with clearing out the east wing for him?"

"You're living in the east wing right now."

"I'll move to another room."

"Mom left that room for you, not for him."

Ivan raised his head with the perfect amount of hurt in his eyes.

"Brother, I've said before that Mathilda and I can just rent a place somewhere else, but Mathilda doesn't want to go through the hassle of moving."

"You've been together for two years, and you just now thought of the problem?"

Mathilda placed a slice of orange on the edge of the plate.

"Why does every sentence you say sound like you're questioning me?"

"I am simply asking."

"Then I'll answer. I don't want to move around right after getting married."

"So your plan was to move into my mother's house and then have me attend the wedding to offer my blessings."

She looked over at my father.

"You said he would understand."

My father set his medicine box down heavily on the table.

"Enough. If you hadn't played that audio recording right off the bat, we could have had a proper discussion."

Aunt Chloe, my mother's younger sister who had remained silent all this time, suddenly spoke up.

"Tom, when did they decide to hold this wedding?"

"Ask the young ones, why ask me? It's their business."

"Then why were the wedding invitations changed without Jack's knowledge?"

Tiffany stepped in to answer.

"We were afraid he wouldn't be able to accept it, so we were waiting for the right moment to tell him."

"And the right moment was when the emcee invited him onto the stage?"

Aunt Chloe set her cutlery down.

The place abruptly fell silent, with no one daring to answer her.

Cindy pulled me into the kitchen, and before the door was even fully closed, she lowered her voice and said, "I thought you knew about this all along. That's what they told all the relatives when they called us."

"And you?"

"Your dad said you already agreed to it. I never thought to ask you directly."

"So you only realized I didn't know when you saw that declaration yesterday?"

She nodded, her face turning crimson.

"I didn't dare say anything in front of them, but I sent you the photo."

"Thank you."

She shook her head.

"Don't thank me. I only waited until now to say something."

"Who else in the group chat knew?"

"My mother, Tiffany, and your dad. Mathilda wasn't in the group, but she and Ivan came over for dinner yesterday and overheard."

She showed me her phone screen, where I could see a message from my father asking who was willing to help him talk some sense into his eldest son.

Aunt Alicia replied that she would give it a try, yet not a single person thought to check with the person whose life was being arranged.

My cousin quietly put her phone away.

"I always followed you around when I was little. When I saw that piece of paper yesterday, I thought to myself—they had even prepared your signature in advance, how could anyone call that a discussion?"

"From now on, if you have any doubts, you can ask me directly."

She nodded and opened the kitchen door for me.

When we returned, my father was explaining to the camera lens of his phone that his eldest son had simply acted in the heat of the moment because he was heartbroken.

Seeing me emerge, he cleared a space beside him.

"Come over here and clear up this misunderstanding."

"There is no misunderstanding."

"Do you really want me to announce in front of all these people that I no longer have a son like you?"

"If you wish."

The color drained from his face.

The relatives urged me to back down. I retrieved my mother's letter from the folder but didn't show it to anyone.

"This letter was written for me. I will handle the property transfer procedures myself. Anyone wishing to inspect the documents may do so through the legal channels."

My father wanted to flare up again, but my cousin's phone buzzed.

After taking a glance at the screen, she quietly forwarded an old voice message to me.

The sending date was precisely the night before my father handed me the keys.

The attached text simply read: This is how they planned to make you show up for the wedding.

I looked up at my father. He was still pressing me to read the declaration aloud.

I turned up the volume on my phone and pressed play on that voice message.