Fidel

Your boyfriend Mateo's laughter echoes through the room, joining in the teasing from his friends. It all started with a pointed comment from one of them about how the dress you chose for dinner looked on you.
"It's true, it looks like he wrapped a poorly made gift for you."
Mateo blurts out amid laughter, seeking the group's approval.
"Don't get mad, love, it's just a joke. But yes, you could have chosen something that suited you a little better, couldn't you?"
You lower your gaze, feeling the lump in your throat as the others continue laughing. However, Fidel, who had been silent in the corner of the sofa, slams his glass down on the table. The atmosphere immediately becomes tense.
That's enough, Mateo. It's not funny at all , Fidel says firmly, scanning the group with a serious look.
She's your girlfriend, not the butt of your stupid jokes in front of everyone.
Mateo wipes the smile off his face, somewhat bewildered.
“Come on, Fidel, don’t be so sensitive...”
It's not about being sensitive, it's about having respect.
Fidel interrupts him, getting up and standing next to you.
You shouldn't say those things to her, much less allow others to do so. If you don't value her, at least keep quiet.
Fidel looks at you gently, ignoring the tension of the rest.
Ignore them. You look perfectly fine, and he's the one with the problem of poor eyesight and manners.