I stood frozen in the hallway, one hand pressed against the wall to keep from swaying, the other clutching my wedding magazine so tightly I was crumpling the pages. The dining room door was ajar, just enough to let in their voices. I wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour. My marketing meeting had ended early, and I’d planned to surprise them. Instead, they surprised me.
« She’ll pay for everything, just like she did for my wedding, » Violet says with her unmistakable laugh: too loud, too sharp. « That’s what little sisters are for. »
My parents laugh with her. The sound of their shared laughter makes my stomach swell. « We’ve already told everyone it’ll be a joint celebration, » says my mother, clearly proud. My father adds, « Five years of marriage is important. Your anniversary deserves as much attention as her wedding. »
My magazine slips from my fingers and falls silently onto the carpet. I don’t bend down to pick it up. I can’t move. Blood rushes to my face, my breath comes in short gasps. Five years of therapy, spent learning that I have value, evaporate in a second.
I back up silently, cross the house, and collapse into the driver’s seat of my car. The keys dangle from my fingers. Not yet. First, I have to call Robert.
« They’re doing it again, Rob, » I said when he answered. « But this time, I won’t let them. »
The Forgotten Promise
Five years earlier, Violet had announced her engagement. Two weeks later, my father summoned me to his office: Thomas had lost his job, and we needed help with the wedding. « Temporarily, » he promised. « Family comes first. » My mother watched the scene from the doorway.
I’d emptied my savings account: $15,000. My college fund. My future. « It’s only one semester, » my mother had said when I had to drop out of college. Three semesters later, I was still working two jobs while Violet danced in a dress that cost more than my car.
That night, I swore to myself: never again.
Two weeks ago today, my mother invited us to dinner. The « special occasion » china was out: a bad sign. Violet arrived late, as always, with Thomas. Before we’d even eaten, my mother proudly announced their idea: to combine my wedding with Violet’s fifth birthday.
I feel Robert’s hand close around mine under the table. Violet pulls out a perfectly organized binder: « I’ve already listed everything. Two cakes, of course. And the colors should match those of my wedding. For continuity. »
They’re looking at me. They’re waiting for my automatic « yes. » Instead, I say, « Let me think about it. »
The silence is brutal. « Think about it? » My mother smiles, frozen. « Naomi will eventually agree, » she concludes, passing the potatoes over.
I smile too. The perfect girl. But, in my head, only one phrase echoes: never again.
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