I scrolled through the barrage of messages calling me selfish, a faint, cold smile curling at the corner of my lips.
Then a text from James caught my eye.
The gist: he'd arranged a dinner that evening. Meryl's parents had traveled all the way from their hometown, and both families would sit down together for a meal. Consider it a modest wedding celebration.
I made a point of looking up the restaurant. The kind of place where a single plate ran four figures.
So that was his game. To save face in front of the in-laws, James really could swallow his pride when it suited him.
At the end of the message, he hinted, ever so delicately, that money was tight. Would I be so kind as to pick up the tab?
That afternoon, I left work right on time, brought Madge along, and headed to the dinner.
The moment I pushed open the private dining room door, a thick wave of liquor and greasy meat hit me full in the face.
"Well, well! You must be the in-law we've been waiting for! We've been counting the days, and here you finally are!"
"My little Meryl kept saying her mother-in-law was impossible to please. I didn't believe it at first, but now I've seen it with my own eyes."