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I noticed Ethan’s mother gently steering guests to different tables.
“Oh, you’ll be more comfortable over here,” she’d say with a smile.
He noticed.
I could tell by the way he kept his eyes down, hands folded.
Then the comments got louder.
“These are business contacts,” someone muttered near me. “It’s not the right crowd.”
My heart ached. Before I could respond, Ethan’s parents approached.
They were calm, composed, and smiling.
“We need to have a quick word,” his mother told my dad.
My stomach dropped.
“Friends. Business associates. People who might feel… uncomfortable.”
Ethan’s father cleared his throat.
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