My sudden obedience caught them all off guard. After a tense silence, my father cleared his throat. "That's more like it."
"We're a family. There's nothing that can't be talked over."
"Everything I say is for your own good."
"Yes, I know." I nodded, a vacant smile on my face.
Once it was clear I wasn't going to cause a scene, the tension drained from the room and their attention snapped right back to Faith.
I paused for a moment, then turned to go upstairs.
But just as my foot touched the first step, a hand closed around my wrist.
It was Garrett. He’d followed me.
He pulled me close, his warm breath tickling my ear as he whispered, "Are you really not mad?"
His gentle tone made my eyes sting.
A fresh wave of grief threatened to overwhelm me, but I just shook my head, a lump in my throat making it impossible to speak.
Garrett, however, let out a sigh of relief. "I knew you'd understand. You're always so reasonable, you never sweat the small stuff."
"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about…" He hesitated, his gaze shifting away from me.
"We need to adjust our wedding plans. I promised your sister I'd help with her senior project—it's a large-scale event design. So, I was thinking—"
He took a breath. "What if we switched our dream Napa Valley vineyard wedding to a large hotel wedding here in Los Angeles, designed by her?"
"The invitations haven't gone out yet, and it's just a wedding. Changing the venue isn't a big deal," he said with a gentle laugh, his eyes twinkling with what he clearly mistook for tenderness.
My heart turned to ice. The flicker of warmth I'd felt from his brief concern now seemed pathetic.
After being thrown aside so many times, what foolish part of me still expected anything resembling love from them?
When I didn’t respond, Garrett dragged a hand through his hair in frustration. "Come on, Willow. This senior project is a huge deal for Faith. We're her family. We have to support her."
"Besides, you love a big party, don't you? Think of it as a surprise for her."
"Okay," I replied, my voice flat and devoid of life.
Garrett blinked, taken aback. "What did you say?"
I let out a long, slow breath. "I said I agree. We'll cancel the wedding."
"Cancel? Who said anything about canceling? I said change the plans. We can't just cancel the wedding," he corrected, his brow furrowed in confusion.
I looked down, a bitter smile twisting my lips.
What was the difference? As long as Faith was around, she’d never let our wedding happen. She was consumed with jealousy—she wanted everything I had. I’d known it since we were children.
No matter how hard I fought, I could never win.
The family's blatant favoritism was her weapon, and she used it to keep me pinned down.
Now, even my fiancé was on her side.
My eyes were burning, and a familiar itch began to prickle across my skin.
The peanut butter milkshake was starting to work.
I gave a slight nod and turned to head upstairs. I had an EpiPen in my room, and I had to get to it before the reaction got worse.
"Are you mad I'm getting to use your wedding for my project?" Faith’s voice, dripping with fake innocence, floated up from behind me.
I ignored her and kept walking.
This was her classic move. All Faith had to do was squeeze out a few crocodile tears, and no matter what I did, the whole family would rush to her defense.
Sure enough, Mason was the first to lash out. "Enough, Willow! Didn't you hear Faith talking to you?"
"One minute you say you're not mad, the next you're giving everyone the cold shoulder. Is that any way to treat your sister?"
I didn't answer him. His baseless accusations were the soundtrack of my childhood; they had long ago lost their power to hurt me.
But just as I reached the second-floor landing, my arm was seized from behind, and a sharp pain shot through me.