Chapter 2

The crisp scent of champagne hung in the air, complementing the restaurant's refined and tranquil atmosphere.

Under the guidance of a waiter, we took our seats.

My father-in-law frowned and looked around. "Why is there only one table here?"

Brandon glanced around as well.

"Don't tell me the whole place has been reserved?"

My mother-in-law gasped in surprise. "Reserved? That must've cost a fortune, right?"

All four pairs of eyes turned toward me at once.

Brandon rested his chin on his hand. After noticing something nearby, his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Wow! That's a world-class pianist! I heard the appearance fee for just one piece is in the five figures!"

"What?!" My mother-in-law's jaw nearly dropped. She shot me an angry glare. "You prodigal! Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal?"

My father-in-law raised his hand and called to the waiter.

"Waiter, we're not eating anymore. Hurry up and refund us the money!"

He had barely sat down before trying to stand up again.

The waiter looked at me awkwardly.

Without changing my expression, I released Megan's hand, which I had just warmed.

"The payment's already been made. It can't be refunded. If you don't eat, the money will just go to waste."

I didn't particularly care, but the other four all looked visibly pained at the thought.

Megan sighed. "Mom, Dad, since we're already here, let's just enjoy the meal. Try something new."

Brandon exchanged a glance with her.

Understanding immediately, he patted the two elders on the shoulders and cracked a few playful jokes.

The pianist played three pieces.

My father-in-law gripped his knife and fork.

"What kind of nonsense is he playing? It's not even as nice as my harmonica!"

A waiter placed an eight-hundred-dollar medium-rare steak in front of each of us.

My mother-in-law's face twisted with disgust.

"Does this chef even know how to cook? It looks terrible!"

Brandon grinned and asked Megan how it tasted.

She took one bite before setting down her knife and fork, wiping her mouth.

"It's nowhere near as good as the beef stew you make."

Brandon shot me a casual glance, his face brimming with smug satisfaction.

The entire dinner was excruciating.

After we finished, the waiter asked if the next part of the evening could begin.

But when they learned there were still fireworks across the city and a sports car waiting as part of the surprise, my mother-in-law slammed the table in fury.

"Are you done yet?! Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?"

I frowned and tried to explain.

"Mom, I'm not wasting money. These are all Valentine's Day gifts for Megan. She rides an electric scooter to work every day, exposed to the wind and rain. Having a car would make things much more convenient."

But my father-in-law kept a stern face.

"No matter how expensive the car is, it'll still get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as practical as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. You're always trying to solve everything with money!

"You've got a little money now, and your ego's already soaring! Instead of wasting money on all these flashy things, you should save it for something practical for the family!"

A tight heaviness built in my chest.

"Dad, I earned this money. I'm happy to spend it this way. I haven't neglected the household expenses, so you really don't need to worry about it."

My father-in-law's eyes widened with anger.

"I say a couple of words, and you dare talk back? Well, well, Tyler—you've really made something of yourself now!

"You talk to me like this right in front of my face—who knows how you bully Megan behind closed doors! I should never have agreed to let my daughter marry you in the first place!"

A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me.

Months of nonstop overtime had left my chest tight, my heartbeat dull and heavy with pain. Disappointment and grievance tangled together inside me, swelling until they were about to erupt.

Just then, Megan suddenly pressed her hand over mine.

"Honey, don't be angry. Mom and Dad just hate to see money wasted. They got a little anxious—that's all. They don't mean anything by it."

Looking into her bright, watery eyes, my shoulders sagged helplessly.