I parked my car. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I looked tired. I looked like a single mom who worked night shifts and couldn’t afford a stylist. But my eyes? My eyes looked dangerous.
I grabbed the envelope. I walked up the gravel path, the crunching sound under my boots sounding like a war drum.
I reached the glass doors of the sunroom. Through the panes, I could see them. Tamson was wearing a white sundress, laughing, a mimosa in her hand. Dawson sat beside her, looking relaxed, the picture of a satisfied groom. My mother was beaming at the head of the table.
They looked like a magazine spread. They looked perfect.
I pushed the doors open. The air conditioning hit me, carrying the scent of bacon and expensive perfume.
Conversation stopped. Heads turned.
“Karen?” My mother’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to show up after yesterday.”
Tamson’s smile vanished. She set her glass down hard. “If you’re here to make a scene, Karen, just turn around. I can’t deal with your drama today.”
I didn’t look at my mother. I didn’t look at my sister. I kept my eyes locked on Dawson.
He saw me. He saw the envelope in my hand. And for the first time since I’d known him, the smile faltered.
I walked straight to the table. My heels clicked on the polished floor. I stopped directly behind Tamson’s chair, looming over the groom.
“Karen, seriously,” Dawson started, a nervous chuckle bubbling up. “Let’s not do this. We’re just trying to have a nice family—”
I dropped the envelope onto his plate, right on top of his eggs benedict.
“Open it,” I said softly.
The slap of the envelope hitting the china echoed in the silent room.
“What is this?” Tamson asked, looking from the envelope to me, her irritation warring with confusion. “Is this some kind of passive-aggressive apology letter?”
“It’s a wedding gift,” I said, my voice steady. “For you. But Dawson needs to open it.”
Dawson’s hand hovered over the manila paper. I saw a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. He knew. In that split second, the arrogant facade cracked, and I saw the coward underneath.
“I’m not opening this,” Dawson said, trying to sound dismissive but failing. “It’s probably just more of your nonsense. You’ve always been jealous of us, Karen. Everyone knows it.”
“Open it, Dawson,” I repeated. “Or I will open it for you, and I will read every single page out loud to your mother.”
I glanced at Dawson’s mother, a sweet woman named Patricia, who looked terrified.
Tamson, impatient and used to getting her way, reached out. “Oh, for God’s sake, give it to me.”
“Tam, don’t—” Dawson lunged, but he was too slow.
Tamson ripped the envelope open. She pulled out the stack of papers. The room was so quiet you could hear the ice melting in the silver buckets.
I watched her face. It was a fascinating study in devastation.
First, confusion. She stared at the photo of Meredith and Dawson in Cabo. Her brow furrowed. “Who is… why do you have photos of Dawson?”
Then, realization. She flipped to the next page. The side-by-side railing comparison. The Venmo transactions for “Late Night Uber” on days Dawson said he was at the office.
“Dawson?” Her voice was small, high-pitched. “Who is Meredith Sable?”
Dawson stood up, his chair scraping violently against the floor. “Baby, listen to me. She’s a psycho. Karen is crazy. She photoshopped this. She’s trying to ruin us because she’s bitter about her own failed marriage!”
Tamson ignored him. She was reading the printed screenshot of the hotel confirmation from two nights ago.
“The Ivory Tower,” she whispered. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and wet. “Thursday night? You said you had a migraine. You said you couldn’t even look at your phone because the light hurt your eyes.”
“I did! I did have a migraine!” Dawson was pleading now, his hands up in surrender. “I just… I went there to get away from the noise! To sleep!”
“With a reservation for two?” I interjected calmly. “And a request for champagne and strawberries upon arrival? It’s on the second page, Tamson.”
Tamson flipped the page. She read it. She went pale, the color draining from her face so fast I thought she might faint.
