“Daniel,” I said calmly.
He finally raised his eyes.
“You have five minutes to fix this.”
The entire table went quiet.
Madison’s smile grew wider. “Fix what? My hand slipped.”
I ignored her and kept my eyes on Daniel.
“Apologize to my parents. Make your sister apologize. And tell your family this ends tonight.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “Claire, don’t make a scene.”
I nearly smiled.
“Otherwise,” I said, checking the time on my phone, “we’ll see each other in divorce court.”
Several people gasped.
Madison started laughing again.
Daniel leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “You’re threatening our marriage over a glass of wine?”
“No,” I said. “I’m ending it over what you’ve allowed for three years.”
That stopped him.
Because Daniel knew exactly what I meant.
The jokes about my parents’ modest home.
Madison calling my mother “the coupon queen.”
His father asking whether my family had ever eaten anywhere without laminated menus.
