"Yeah, Ethan's decent, but way too uptight. Still holding a grudge after all these years. If he ever needs Jason and Summer? Good luck."
Jason waltzed over, fake smile in place, pride flashing in his eyes. He raised his wine glass and stopped right in front of me.
"Ethan, don't let them get to you. I'm still your cousin. If you ever need anything, I'm here."
Summer let out a snort. "Seriously, grow up. Learn how to deal with people. Just look at you—total train wreck."
My parents were shaking with anger. I held them back, forcing a smile.
"You're right. Every word."
Then I guided them to a table and sat down.
The food started rolling out, and so did the toasts. Everyone kept pushing Summer to spill about her time overseas.
"There must be tons of musicians out there. Had to be tough standing out, huh?"
Summer leaned into Jason, kissed his cheek, then beamed.
"It was rough, but Jason always believed in me. Without him, I probably would've quit and ended up stuck in some tiny office forever."
"A perfect pair. You two just click!"
"Honestly, dumping Ethan for Jason was the smartest thing she ever did. Total glow-up."
They took turns hyping her up while throwing shade my way. To them, I was just the guy she ditched to level up.
Mom's eyes went red with fury. She leaned over and muttered, "She's just playing some violin. What's she even bragging about?"
I gave her a calm look. "Everything's gonna be fine when Lydia shows."
Just saying her name made my chest feel lighter.
Right now, though? Everyone was huddled around Summer, acting like this party wasn't even my parents' idea in the first place.
We kept our heads down and waited.
It wasn't until a server politely mentioned all the dishes were out that anyone even looked our way.
Summer glanced around the hotel, taking in the downtown vibe—gallery paintings on the walls, crystal chandeliers, and fancy guests scattered around like a magazine shoot.
She turned to me, smirking. "Wait... you booked this place? Does your salary even cover a single drink here? What is this, sketchy money from your law firm? Trying to flex or something?"
I didn't say a word. Just walked off to settle the bill.
On the way, Lydia Lambert called. Said she might be late and told me to keep things smooth with the relatives. We talked for a bit, then I headed back.
Right as I reached the door, Summer stepped in front of me.
She gave me a once-over, eyes dripping with judgment, then dropped a fat wad of cash at my feet.
"Stop pretending you've got money. Here—use this. Don't say I never helped you."
I pushed it back. "Keep it. I'm good. And this money—"
"Save it," she snapped. "You think I don't know what you make? I told you after the divorce—quit that dead-end job. It's hard, it's thankless, and the pay sucks. What's the point?"
