Daniel nearly inhaled his water.
Margaret looked completely bewildered.
Fifteen minutes later, dinner ended.
I remained silent until Daniel had driven several miles.
Then I said, “Pull over.”
He glanced at me.
“Why?”
“Because I need to yell, and I’d prefer you weren’t driving when I do it.”
He pulled into a gas station.
The second the car stopped, I unfastened my seat belt.
“What was that?”
“I know.”
“No. What exactly did you mean by ‘we’ll figure something out’?”
Daniel turned fully toward me.
“Sarah, your brother is walking you down that aisle.”
I stopped.
“There was never another possibility,” he continued.
“Then why didn’t you say that?”
“Because if I’d said everything I wanted to say to my mother, neither of us would ever be invited to Thanksgiving again.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Then the laughter turned into tears.
