“I’m not starting a fight with her two days before the wedding,” Ethan said.

“She’s doing this on purpose,” I said.

“She’s doing her best to help us,” he said.

He grabbed the packing tape from my hand.

The sharp metal teeth of the dispenser scraped against my thumb.

“I’m going to put these boxes in the garage,” he said.

He lifted the heavy cardboard box off the dining table.

He carried it down the hallway without looking back.