“Do you even understand what kind of mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, Claire?” Ethan’s voice shook, not with the nervous excitement of a first night as husband and wife, but with mounting panic. He sat on the edge of the enormous hotel bed, surrounded by opened envelopes, nervously counting the bills in his hands. “Can you count at all, or is your head filled with nothing but plants, moss, and those ridiculous pieces of driftwood?”
Claire stood before the mirror, struggling with the zipper of her heavy wedding dress. At his words, she slowly turned around, an unpleasant chill spreading through her chest. Only an hour earlier, they had been laughing, dancing, accepting congratulations, taking photographs, and believing a happy life lay ahead of them. Now the hotel room felt close and airless.
“Ethan, please calm down,” she said gently, trying not to make things worse. “Yes, the wedding didn’t pay for itself. So what? We didn’t have it to make money. We wanted to celebrate our day and remember it. We’ll repay the loan little by little. I can take on several large office landscaping projects, and your manager at the escape room center promised you a bonus. We’re a family now.”
“A family?” Ethan shot to his feet.
He looked like a man backed into a corner. His expensive suit was already wrinkled, his tie had slipped sideways, and his hair was disheveled.
“Do you hear yourself? ‘We wanted to remember it’! I borrowed three hundred thousand from the bank! Three hundred thousand! And this…” He swept the bills on the bed into one angry pile. “This is eighty thousand. Eighty! That isn’t even funny. It’s humiliating. Did your relatives come just to eat for free?”
Claire went still.
A minute earlier, she had wanted to explain everything calmly. She told herself Ethan was exhausted, overwhelmed, and emotional. Money could be earned. The loan could be repaid. He only needed time to recover from the day.
“Don’t speak about my parents and relatives that way,” she said quietly, though her voice had grown firmer. “Everyone gave what they could. Aunt Linda is raising two children alone, and you know that perfectly well. And Uncle Mike…”
“What do I care about Uncle Mike?” Ethan cut in. He began pacing the room. “I expected something completely different. I thought we’d pay off the loan immediately and still have enough left for a down payment. Now I’m in the red, Claire. Deeply in the red. And do you know whose fault that is? Yours. You insisted on having the reception at a hotel. You wanted those ridiculous peonies in October, flowers that cost half the price of a car.”
“We chose everything together. You were the one who said you wanted a wedding your friends would envy. You wanted to impress everyone, Ethan.”
Someone knocked on the door.
Not a tentative or polite knock, but three hard, demanding blows.
“That’s Mom,” Ethan breathed.
Hope suddenly appeared on his face, as if the person outside could solve all his problems in an instant.
He hurried to open the door.
Catherine entered in a rustling formal dress, leaving behind a heavy cloud of sweet perfume. Behind her came Victor, her divorced brother, whom Claire felt had already occupied far too much space at the wedding that day.
“Well, son?” Catherine asked. She didn’t even glance at her daughter-in-law and went straight toward the bed. “Have you counted the gifts? I told you how this would end. I could feel it in my heart.”
“Mom, it’s a complete disaster,” Ethan complained. He instantly seemed to shrink into a wounded teenager. “Eighty thousand. That’s all. They took advantage of us.”
Catherine poked the pile of money with open disgust.
“I warned you,” she said coldly, finally turning toward Claire.
Her eyes moved over Claire with sharp, measuring disdain.
“Your relatives seem to have come simply to enjoy a good meal, sweetheart. Don’t take offense—I’m a straightforward woman, and I say exactly what I think. People from our side contributed properly. Victor put in ten thousand and didn’t hesitate. What about yours?”
“My relatives gave money too,” Claire replied, still trying to keep the conversation within reasonable limits. “And they brought gifts.”
“Gifts?” Victor laughed loudly from the armchair, crossing one leg over the other. “A sheet set and a dinner service? Are you serious? Those things won’t pay off a bank loan, girl. Ethan has been left with a mountain of debt, and you’re standing there blinking at him.”
Claire looked only at her husband, pretending the others in the room didn’t exist.
“Ethan, ask them to leave. We need to speak privately. This is our wedding, our night, and our problem.”
Ethan shifted his gaze from his wife to his mother.
There was no sympathy or support in his expression. Claire saw only the irritation of a man who had not received what he expected.
“Mom is right,” he muttered. “You’ve always been wasteful. You don’t know how to handle money. Your moss, stones, and pieces of wood don’t bring in much, but you spend as if you’re a millionaire. The loan is in my name, Claire. Mine. And you’re just a pretty picture I now have to keep paying for.”