As he disappeared through the door, I snapped.
“Andrew Todd! I’ll wait here till the day ends. If you don’t come back—we’re done. For good.”
He heard me. Paused for half a second. Still didn’t turn around.
My parents blew past me. Dad sneered.
“Who are you performing for? Let me make this clear—forget canceling. If we told you to hand Andrew over to Cindy, you would. Her life matters more.”
Mom gave me that tired look.
“Vivian, be reasonable. It’s just a wedding. We can reschedule. But Cindy needs him now. You always clash, sure—but we don’t have time for your drama today.”
I’d been hearing that same crap since I finally came to my real parents.
Cindy had already been living with them for fifteen years when they found me.
I never asked them to kick her out. I actually treated her like a real sister.
But she always wanted what was mine—even stuff she didn’t like. A teddy bear she’d trashed, a red dress she’d never wear.
If I wanted it, she had to take it. Every time.
I asked her once—why she kept doing it.
Her answer? Ice cold.
“No reason. I just love the look on your face when I take everything.”
I was stupid back then. Thought if I told Mom and Dad, they’d finally see her for what she was. Maybe stop blaming me for everything.
But I didn’t get it—how deep their love for her ran. Instead, they hit me with:
“Vivian, how did we end up with such a selfish, lying daughter? You’re a real disappointment.”
Fine. Be disappointed.
I was done. Too drained to cry. Just cold. Hollow.
I pushed myself off the floor, pressed tissues to the bleeding gash on my arm.
“Mom, Dad—you should probably go. Cindy’s still at the balcony.”
