Ethan smirked. “Well, looks like my son has something to say.”
Noah held out his hand. “Can I use the microphone?”
Ethan handed it over, still amused.
Noah took it, then bent down and picked up a small wrapped box.
“I brought you a gift,” he said.
People leaned in.
Ethan chuckled as he opened it.
Then he screamed.
Everything stopped.
The lid hit the floor. Lila stood up in confusion. Guests froze mid-breath.
I rushed forward, heart pounding.
Inside the box wasn’t anything dangerous.
It was worse.
Photographs.
Stacks of them. Printed, labeled.
The top one showed Ethan kissing Lila in a parking lot—months before our divorce.
Another showed her getting into his car while I was home with Noah, believing he was working late.
Then more.
Proof after proof.
Lila’s face drained of color.
Ethan looked at Noah like he didn’t recognize him. “Where did you get these?”
Noah didn’t flinch. “From your old account.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Lila whispered, “These are from before you told me everything was over.”
Ethan said nothing.
That silence said enough.
Noah lifted the mic again.
“You said leaving my mom was the best decision of your life,” he said. His voice trembled once, then steadied. “But you were cheating before you left.”
I reached him, my hand on his shoulder, but he continued.
“You told me you never lie,” he added, looking straight at his father. “That wasn’t true either.”
Gasps spread across the room.
Ethan tried to regain control. “He doesn’t understand—”
“I understand enough,” Noah said quietly. “You hurt her. And then you laughed about it.”
That hit harder than anything else.
Lila flipped through the photos, shaking. “You told me your marriage was already over.”
“It basically was,” Ethan snapped.
Wrong answer.
Her father stepped forward, furious. “You lied to everyone in this room.”
Whispers broke out. Phones came out. The illusion shattered.
