No one seemed to pay much attention to them except me.
I stepped closer, my eyes scanning the names.
Uncle Mark.
Cousin Rachel.
Neighbor Tom.
And then I saw it.
My heart stopped for a second.
Right in front of me was a tag with my name on it.
But underneath, printed in small yet unmistakable letters, were two words that made my blood boil.
The disappointment.
I picked it up, my fingers tightening around the edges until my nails nearly dug into my palm.
What a pathetic joke.
I didn’t need to ask who did this.
I already knew.
At that moment, laughter rang out from the bar. A voice so familiar that I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.
Karen.
She was laughing, a glass of wine in her hand, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she watched me.
I took a deep breath and slowly placed the name tag back on the table.
I wasn’t going to let them win.
I didn’t snap it in half. I didn’t throw it to the floor.
I placed it back neatly, aligning it with the others as if nothing had happened.
I didn’t need to yell. I didn’t need to cry. I didn’t need to react the way they wanted me to.
Because I knew exactly what Karen wanted.
She wanted me to explode, to lose control, to cause a scene so she could paint me as petty, overly sensitive.
But I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.
I turned, lifted my glass to my lips, and took a slow sip, as if that name tag meant absolutely nothing to me.
And when my eyes met Karen’s, I smiled.
A calm, unbothered smile.
Not angry. Not wounded. Just contemptuous.
That smile made her frown.
Not long after, my father approached.
He didn’t ask about the name tag. He didn’t show a hint of anger at the fact that I had just been humiliated at his own party.
Instead, he merely glanced at me, took a sip of his drink, and said in that infuriatingly indifferent tone, “I didn’t think you’d come.”
I tilted my head and shrugged.
“Neither did I.”
A brief silence.
“Are you still doing that job?”
His voice was low, as if he was trying to sound polite but couldn’t quite hide the disdain.
“Which job?” I raised an eyebrow.
“The company you’re running?”
I let out a laugh, unsure if it was from bitterness or exhaustion.
“Yes, and it’s doing better than ever.”
He didn’t respond right away.
He just looked at me for a long moment, as if assessing whether I was lying.