Uncontrollable, breathless laughter.
They had tried to erase me.
Instead, they erased themselves.
Still, I hadn’t heard anything directly from Lauren.
Not a call, not a message, not even a snide social media post, which was how I knew things were really serious.
Silence meant strategy.
Silence meant damage control.
The storm finally came on a Sunday night.
It was just after 10 p.m. when my phone rang.
I almost didn’t answer, but I recognized the number.
Lauren.
I picked up.
“Hello.”
There was a pause, and then her voice came through small and shaky.
“Was it worth it?”
I leaned back in my chair.
“Was what worth it?”
“You ruined everything, Andrew,” she hissed. “The vendors are pulling out. The blog deleted the post, and Crest View won’t take us for the wedding. Do you know how hard I worked to get all of that?”
“Oh, I’m well aware,” I said calmly. “That’s why I made sure everyone else knew how hard I worked, too.”
There was another pause, this one longer.
Then, almost a whisper.
“You’re supposed to be my cousin.”
“I was,” I said. “And I was a good one. Until your mom laughed in my face and you stood by and said nothing until you turned me into a villain in your little highlight reel. You wanted to erase me, so I removed myself and the foundation you were standing on.”
Her voice cracked then.
“I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“Neither did I. I just wanted to be treated with respect.”
She didn’t reply.
And for once, I didn’t try to fill the silence.
Eventually, she hung up.
I turned my phone over on the table and just sat there for a long time, staring at the wall, the shadows moving as the street light outside flickered on.
I wasn’t proud of how it had all gone down.
I’m not the kind of person who enjoys revenge or conflict or tearing people down, but I was done being the family’s doormat.
The fallout rippled through the next few weeks like aftershocks.