Gavin’s face drained of color, his bravado crumbling under the weight of the situation. He glanced around, his eyes darting from one phone to the next, the reality of his actions beginning to sink in. The gravity of the moment was palpable, the air thick with tension and unspoken judgments.
I steadied myself, my back still aching from the force of his shove. Despite the physical pain, a sense of vindication washed over me. I had never intended for our family’s private turmoil to be put on display, but Gavin’s fury had left me with no choice. My mother’s friends, her loyal Bridge Club, had chosen this moment to stand beside me, not with words of comfort but with the power of evidence.
Gavin’s eyes settled back on me, a mix of anger and desperation swirling within them. “You think this is over?” he spat, though his voice wavered now, lacking the confidence it had held moments before. “You think you can just walk away from this?”
