I Blew Up Their Wedding Chapter 2

"What is wrong with you? Sit down!" my father barked, his face darkening the moment I abruptly stood up from my chair. "No manners. No grace. It's a miracle any man can even look at you without wincing."

Hunter pulled Madison tighter against his side, flashing me a brilliant, teeth-baring smile. "Nat! Maddie and I are making it official. You’re gonna pitch in for the wedding, right? You’re my big sister. My favorite sister."

Favorite sister. Right.

Growing up in a house where the sun rose and set on the son, I was nothing more than an ATM. His allowance came from my high school minimum-wage jobs. His private college tuition and his frat dues were quietly siphoned from my corporate salary. For years, I had harbored this pathetic, hollow hope that if I just gave a little more, paid a little more, my parents might finally look at me with an ounce of the adoration they saved for him.

But dying changes a person. Dying violently, unloved and betrayed, burns the last of that pathetic hope into ash.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, forcing my muscles to relax. I slowly lowered myself back into the chair. "Sure," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I'll make sure to get you a very special gift."

If he wanted to play house, I was more than happy to help set the stage for the explosion.

Hunter’s smile faltered. My easy agreement clearly wasn't enough. He furrowed his brow, perfecting his pout. "Just a gift? Come on, Nat. We need a house."

"Exactly," my mother chimed in, practically tripping over herself to advocate for him. "Hunter is the heir to this family. You’re the older sister. You’ve been living it up in New York City making six figures for years. What’s buying a starter home for your brother? You’re family. Why are you being so stingy?"

I dug my fingernails into my palms. I met my father’s threatening glare and kept my voice perfectly level. "Okay. I'll handle the house."

Words were just wind. I just needed to survive this dinner without being chased out like a rabid dog. The moment this awful charade of a meal was over, I was booking a one-way flight back to JFK. They could rot for all I cared.

The tension in the room evaporated instantly. My promise of real estate acted like a magic spell. For the rest of the evening, my parents fawned over Madison, promising her diamond rings and loudly praying she would pop out at least three strong boys.

As they were finally leaving, Madison hung back in the hallway. She looked me up and down, her eyes swimming with a smug, misplaced superiority.

"Woman to woman," she whispered, her tone dripping with pity. "Seeing me this cherished... it must be driving you crazy, huh?"