“Funny,” he said calmly. “Ten years later and you’re still hoping my wife leaves me.”
Nobody moved after that.
My brother-in-law gave this awkward little grin like he wanted everybody to keep pretending it was a joke.
“Relax, man—”
“No,” my husband cut in. “I’m serious.”
That changed the whole patio immediately.
He leaned back in his chair and looked around at everybody else.
“You know what’s weird? Every family barbecue this guy needs to remind everyone my wife’s too good for me.”
A few people suddenly got very interested in their paper plates.
Then my husband nodded toward the deck behind us. “Meanwhile the ‘guy who married up’ spent six weekends building that with her because we couldn’t afford contractors.”
Dead silence.
My brother-in-law shrugged dramatically. “It’s called teasing.”
My husband smiled a little. “No, teasing is funny.”
That landed hard.
Especially because nobody was laughing anymore.
Then he looked directly at him and said, “You’ve been waiting ten years for my marriage to fail because you can’t stand seeing somebody happy without turning it into a competition.”
My mother-in-law immediately jumped in with, “Okay, let’s not make this dramatic—”
But my husband didn’t even look at her.
He kept staring at his brother-in-law.
“You know what the saddest part is?” he said quietly. “You always say she can do better. Meanwhile your own wife gets tense every time you start talking because she already knows you’re about to humiliate somebody for attention.”
Complete silence.
His wife looked down so fast it honestly hurt to watch.
Then my brother-in-law laughed once, but it sounded forced now. “Wow. Sensitive crowd today.”
My husband picked his drink back up calmly.
“No,” he said. “You just finally ran out of people willing to fake-laugh for you.”