Freedom hit like a breath of fresh air. I hadn’t slept all night, but my eyes weren’t tired–just wired with hope.
All that past drama? Crushed under the wheels as the car sped off.
Right when I hit the airport with my suitcase, Mom FaceTimed me.
The camera shook a little, then boom–Andrew’s face popped up, all soft and doting.
He was feeding Cindy soup, blowing on it like she was five. My parents hovered by the bed, cooing, “Slow down,” “Careful, it’s hot.”
Mom spotted me first. Her smile stayed plastic. “Vivian, where are you? Cindy was just saying how amazing your soup is. Look how happy she looks.”
Cindy, glowing like she’d just won prom queen, flashed a sugary smile. Not even a hint of sadness.
She caught Mom’s signal, looked straight into the camera. Her eyes gleamed with smug drama, then she dipped her head and took a slow sip from Andrew’s spoon.
“Vivian, thanks for the soup. I’m so sorry my body gave out yesterday and messed up your wedding… you’re not mad at me, right?”
Cue the perfect fake guilt–lashes lowered, voice all wobbly like she might cry.
That fake–innocent look lit up the room like a flare. They all fell for it—again.
Andrew stroked her hair. “Don’t say that, Cindy. Your health’s what matters. Vivian gets it. She’s cool with it.”
He stared into the camera, eyes begging me to play the sweet, understanding fiancée one last time.
Dad chimed in, voice low and sharp. “She better not blame you. You saved her life. She owes you. Anything she does for you is the least she can do.”
I just watched. Blank. Like I was streaming some soap I’d already seen.
Those words used to crush me. Now? They floated past like background noise.
I kept my voice chill. “You’re right. Your health comes first.”
“Thanks, Vivian.” Cindy smirked. “Mom and Dad said you’re letting me use your grad project. That true?”
I nodded, totally unbothered. “Already sent it. Check your email.”
Her face lit up like Christmas. She snatched her phone, fingers flying–download, upload, done. Like I might snatch it back.
“I can finally graduate.”
Our parents exhaled like they’d been holding their breath for a year. So proud. So touched.
“Vivian, you did great. You really are our good daughter.”
Even Andrew looked relieved, like I’d finally “matured.” He gave me that soft–eyed look. “Viv, you’re so understanding.”
They had no clue Cindy had just texted me–full of smug venom.
(Told you you’d cave. I win again! Thanks for the design!]
And Mom? Still barking orders like I worked for her. “Vivian, no need to come by. Just clean up Cindy’s room. Doctor says she’s getting discharged. Oh, and she loves your cooking, so lunch is on you. I’ll send her favorite dishes–follow the list.”
That kind of shameless favoritism? I’d never tasted it in over twenty years.
Lused to crave it. Hate it. Blame myself for not earning it.
Now? Whatever. Cindy could have their love. I’d take mine.
gave them a hollow smile and hung up.
Then I turned and walked straight into the airport.
Lunch?
Heh. Doubt Cindy’ll feel like eating.
