“It’s only for the closest family,” my dad told me as eighty guests boarded my $1.2 million yacht for my brother’s engagement party, while he laughed and thanked me for the free venue. I didn’t argue or beg to be included. I waited until they cleared the harbor, then sent the captain six words—and minutes later, the yacht began turning back toward shore.

Before I could answer, Weston took the phone from her.

The call ended.

Three days before the party, I texted him.

What time should I arrive Saturday?

Four hours passed.

Then he replied.

It’s a very tight guest list. Brooke’s parents want only the closest family and business friends. Dad agrees. Please don’t make this awkward.

I read the message twice.

Business friends counted.

The owner didn’t.

I asked one more question.

Are you going to tell Brooke who owns the boat before Saturday?

His response came quickly.

Stop being technical. Everyone understands it’s mine in practice.

That night, Brooke sent me a message.

Please don’t use our engagement to settle family issues. Don’t make this awkward.

The phrase had traveled from Dad to Weston to Brooke.

Don’t make this awkward.

What it really meant was simple.

Do not make us uncomfortable by telling the truth.