“Excuse me?” I finally said, forcing my voice to stay calm despite the anger rising in my chest.
“You heard me,” he snapped.
His name is Ricardo, and he has been married to my older sister Camila for five years.
“We’re having a family gathering here. Nobody invited you.”
I blinked, trying to process what he was saying.
“Ricardo, this is my house. I’m the owner.”
“Well, Camila said we could use it this weekend,” he replied, folding his arms.
“So if you don’t want to ruin everyone’s fun, you should leave.”
I looked past him, searching for my sister.
Camila stood near the kitchen island, looking down at her phone and deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.