She had no answer. That was the thing about threats built on emotional obedience. They collapsed when obedience left.
Bethany stared at the table. For the first time that afternoon, she looked less triumphant than uncertain.
I walked out into crisp spring air with my coat unbuttoned and my heart pounding hard enough to hurt.
In the parking lot, I sat in my car for several minutes before starting the engine. My hands were shaking now. They had not shaken when I signed for the condo. They had not shaken when I said no. But alone, with the doors locked and the restaurant behind me, my body understood what had happened.
I had refused the family script in public.
There would be consequences.
By the time I reached the expressway, my phone had started buzzing.
Mom: I cannot believe the way you spoke to us.
Dad: You owe your mother an apology.
Bethany: You’re unbelievable.
Mom: We raised you better than this.
Dad: Call me tonight.
Bethany: Enjoy your palace, I guess.
I did not answer.