Only then did I notice my hand—slick with warm blood.
Cynthia's face instantly paled and she rushed to explain, "Honey, I just panicked and wasn't thinking straight. I'll take you to the hospital right now."
"Besides, Jackson is my little brother. He acted impulsively just to defend me. Please don't take it to heart."
After saying that, she tried to grab my hand.
"Get lost!" I replied coldly.
Cynthia froze in place, her beautiful eyes turning red again.
"I'm sorry, Cynthia. It's all my fault. I was trying to help but just made things worse," Jackson said.
Then he turned to me. "Neil, it's entirely my fault. Don't blame Cynthia. If you want to hit or scold someone, come at me instead."
He looked so considerate and willing to endure humiliation that my in-laws both looked at him with admiration.
Cynthia felt distressed as well. She quickly spoke to comfort him. "You are helping me, how can I blame you!"
I still refused to back down and shot back, "Hit you? You're not worth dirtying my hands. And if I scold you, that'd be a waste of my breath!"
My father-in-law's face instantly darkened. His fingers tightened around his wine glass until they turned pale, clearly holding back his anger.