I replied to all.
Hi everyone. I wasn’t aware the wedding budget had expanded into a group obligation. Since I have not been included in planning decisions, I’m not comfortable contributing thirty thousand dollars by spreadsheet assignment. I’d be open to supporting Ivy in a way that involves a direct conversation and mutual respect. Best, Chase.
My mother called within an hour.
“Why would you send that to everyone?” she demanded without greeting.
“Because everyone was on the email.”
“You made it sound like we’re extorting you.”
“Are you not?”
There was a sharp inhale. “This is Ivy’s special time.”
“So was launching my company,” I said. “So was the first office lease. So was every year I built a life no one here bothered to ask about.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because you chose a difficult path, Chase. Ivy is doing things the normal way.”
Normal.
Marriage. Photos. Champagne. Public symbolism.
My path had apparently been too private to count.
Later that night, Ivy texted.
Can you please not make this about you? I’m overwhelmed enough already.
I stared at the screen for a long time, then set the phone face down.
The next few days told me everything I needed to know.
Logan texted asking if I wanted to “grab dinner, man to man.” I almost declined but curiosity won.
He chose one of those downtown steak places designed to make average men feel like moguls. Black walls. amber light. servers trained to explain beef the way sommeliers explain old French grief.
