Whatever surprise or fondness I once held for Jenna had long evaporated.
“You remember you’re his boss, but did you forget, you’re also my fiancée?”
Carson dropped to his knees, his shoulders shaking, tears falling one by one.
“Brother Bryce, I know I didn’t think this through. But the banquet’s already set, and my mom’s portrait is already here.”
“It won’t take long. Please, just let her memorial last for half an hour. That’s all I’m asking.”
I pushed him away coldly.
“No.”
“This is my home. Today is my birthday. What right do you have to hang a funeral wreath here and bring bad luck to me?”
It was just a light shove, but Carson lost his footing and staggered back, falling straight into Jenna’s arms.
“Bryce, haven’t you made enough of a scene?”
Jenna finally snapped. She shoved me hard, her voice low but seething with anger.
“Carson’s already been through so much. He’s only asking for a little, for Aunt Symonne’s memorial to last just half an hour. Can’t you even grant that?”
“You’re usually the understanding one. What’s with the pettiness today?”
I slammed into the sharp edge of the table behind me. Pain shot through my body, and a dark bruise bloomed instantly on my arm.