Calla picked up a new dress, her voice light and coaxing. “Amara, would you like to try this? It’s perfect for the beach, and goes beautifully with champagne.”
I stepped back, shaking my head. “No. I’ve already chosen. Take your time.”
She faltered, her expression turning soft with wounded innocence. “Are you upset because I’m upset? Then… I’ll just leave first.”
Before she could turn, Victor caught her wrist. “Amara, that’s not what I meant. She doesn’t need to go.” His gaze fixed sharply on me. “Calla will be your bridesmaid. Don’t be so aggressive—you’ll only scare her.”
I froze. Bridesmaid? Since when was that decided? Shouldn’t I be the one to choose? But then, he had already changed the wedding venue without asking. Why would this be any different?
Expressionless, I said, “That’s just how I am. Whether you like it or not is your choice.”
Both of them stared at me, startled by my seriousness. Calla’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Forget it. I’ll leave. Better if I disappear from your sight.”
But Victor Hale only tightened his grip, interlocking his fingers with hers. “Amara, you’re about to be married. Why are you still acting so childish? Ever since the date was set, you’ve been sulking nonstop—do you find that fun?”
“Victor, don’t be like that…” Calla murmured, leaning closer as if to soothe him.
He pulled away, his voice rising. “Don’t try to persuade me. I’ve had enough! Amara, throw your tantrums if you want—but don’t say I didn’t try. You’ve cried yourself blind with jealousy!”
The store fell silent. Even the clerk bowed his head awkwardly.
Cold seeped into my chest. So in his eyes, my blindness was nothing more than jealousy.
I had hoped he’d remember the meaning of our snowy mountain wedding. But every time Calla claimed “low blood sugar” or “headache,” he abandoned me to rush to her side. When I burned with a 39-degree fever, he told me, Drink hot water, I’ll come later, and never showed up—because he was out shopping with her.
When I dared to complain, he scolded me. Why are you so naïve? Calla really needs me.
On our anniversary, he promised to watch the sunrise with me. I prepared a gift. He forgot. It’s just a date. Why make such a fuss?
But for Calla’s birthday, he reserved a restaurant a month in advance, bought a gift, and posted online: Happy birthday to the person who matters most to me.
Looking back, I realized I should have left long ago.
