Chapter 4 - The Price of a Game
By noon, the news had spread through our entire social circle like wildfire.
My phone had been ringing continuously on silent since 9:00 AM. I had twenty-four missed calls from Ryan’s mother, sixteen from my sister in Seattle, nine from Chloe, and dozens of text messages from mutual friends ranging from extreme confusion to outright outrage.
At 12:30 PM, I took my lunch break.
I sat in a quiet booth at a small diner three blocks away from the government center, eating a turkey sandwich and sipping an iced tea.
My phone buzzed on the formica table.
It was an email notification.
I opened it. It was from our wedding venue—the DragonRidge Country Club in Henderson.
Dear Nora and Ryan,
We are writing to confirm receipt of your cancellation request submitted today at 11:15 AM via the client portal. As per section 4B of your contract, cancellations made within sixty days of the event date result in the forfeiture of the $5,000 initial deposit. Please let us know how you would like us to process the remaining balance refund.
I stared at the email for a long time.
Ryan had logged into the portal himself. He had finally realized I wasn't bluffing.
A shadow fell over my table.
I looked up.
Ryan was standing there. He had changed into a clean t-shirt and jeans, but he looked completely destroyed. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hands tucked deep into his pockets.
"Can I sit down?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It’s a public diner, Ryan."
He slid into the vinyl booth across from me, folding his hands on the table. His knuckles were raw, as if he had been rubbing them nervously for hours.
"I canceled the venue," he said softly.
"I saw the email."
"I called my mom," he continued, looking down at his hands. "She... she screamed at me for twenty minutes. She told me I was the biggest fool she’d ever raised. She said if I don't fix this with you, she’s taking Ava off the family holiday list forever."
I took a bite of my sandwich, chewed slowly, and swallowed before speaking. "Your mother has always been very pragmatic."
"Nora, please," Ryan choked out, leaning across the table, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Look at me. I haven't eaten. I haven't slept. My whole life is falling apart in front of my eyes, and you’re sitting here eating a turkey sandwich like nothing happened!"
"Something did happen, Ryan," I said gently. "You got married yesterday."
"To the wrong person!" he yelled, catching the attention of an older couple sitting two booths away. He immediately lowered his voice, leaning closer. "To the wrong person, Nora! You know I love you! You know Ava is just... she’s just Ava! We’ve been friends since we were twenty-two! It was a joke that went too far because I was an idiot and I didn't say no!"
"You didn't say no for five years, Ryan," I said.
The noise of the diner—the clinking of silverware, the hum of the air conditioner, the background country music—seemed to fade away.
Ryan blinked. "What?"
"This wasn't about yesterday," I said, setting my sandwich down on the white plate. "Yesterday was just the day you put your signature on what our relationship has been for five years."
"Nora, that's not fair—"
"When Ava broke up with her boyfriend three years ago, who slept on her couch for four nights in a row?" I asked. "You."
Ryan swallowed hard. "She was suicidal—"
"When we were driving to Palm Springs for my thirtieth birthday, who called you forty miles outside the city because her car had a flat tire?" I asked. "And who turned the car around to go rescue her while I sat in a gas station parking lot for three hours?"
Ryan’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
"When I asked you six months ago if we could set a boundary about her having a key to our house, what did you call me?" I continued, my voice remaining completely calm, completely steady. "You called me paranoid. You told me I was jealous. You told me that if I couldn't accept Ava as part of your package, I was questioning your integrity."
Tears began to spill over Ryan’s eyelashes, tracing wet paths down his cheeks.
"I didn't question your integrity, Ryan," I whispered. "I trusted you. I let you make me feel small so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable. I let you turn my boundaries into a joke so you could be the hero in her story."
"Nora..." he sobbed, reaching out to grab my hand.
I pulled my hand back, placing it neatly in my lap under the table.
"Yesterday morning, you brought her to my workplace," I said. "You handed me her license. You let her wear my shirt. And when she told me nobody was asking for my approval, you stood there and smiled."
Ryan buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with deep, wracking sobs.
May you like
"You didn't lose a dare, Ryan," I said softly, standing up from the booth and dropping a twenty-dollar bill onto the table next to my plate. "You lost me."
I walked out of the diner into the bright, warm Nevada sunlight, leaving Ryan sitting alone in the booth with his head in his hands.
