Abigail’s POV
“Could you stop glaring at me like that?” I ask Nathan sharply, my voice low enough not to draw our parents’ attention.
“I’m not glaring,” he replies with a smirk, forking a piece of roast beef on his plate. “This is just my face when I’m forced to sit through family bonding time.”
I roll my eyes and shift in my chair, trying to maintain my composure. Across the table, Ricky and Mom are lost in their own little world, exchanging soft smiles and whispers like teenagers on their first date.
It’s nauseating.
Mom giggles at something Ricky says, her hand brushing his arm lightly. I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or just...awkward.
Nathan must sense my discomfort because his smirk widens. “Enjoying the show?” he mutters, his voice filled with
