“Before dessert,” he said evenly. “I want to show something.” A projector flickered on. The screen dropped from the ceiling. Confusion rippled around the table. Clare tilted her head, smiling. What’s this, love? footage from last week, he said. Something I found interesting. The first clip rolled Ruth kneeling, scrubbing tiles.
Clare’s voice filled the room. Make sure the floor shines this time. No one laughed. Clare’s fork clattered. Her friends stared at their plates. Ruth’s hands trembled in her lap. Another clip. Crumbs thrown. The bucket kicked over. Wine spilled. Clare’s mocking voice echoed. If Ethan wants her here, she better earn it. Silence deepened.
The only sound was the projector’s hum. Ethan didn’t look away. That’s my mother you’re speaking to. Clare’s face drained. Ethan, I This isn’t what it looks like. He kept his tone steady. It looks exactly like what it is. One partner muttered. Jesus. Under his breath. Another shook his head. Ruth tried to stand. Please stop this, she whispered, tears threatening.