Chapter 2: Chapter 2
“Daniel, do you think Emily will hate me? She still hasn’t returned any of my calls…” Victoria asked, leaning against Daniel’s chest like a fragile flower.
“Of course not. She’s your sister, and you’re so sick. This was your only wish. She’s not that thoughtless. We’ll make it up to her later,” Daniel soothed her gently.
Victoria nodded, her spirits instantly lifting. She excitedly dragged Daniel and my parents to a high-end steakhouse.
The meal cost over a thousand dollars. My parents winced at the bill, but Victoria acted as if she deserved it all.
After dinner, I floated back to the hotel with them.
“Daniel, don’t you want to see what’s under this new lace nightgown?”
Victoria, wearing a nearly sheer silk robe, traced circles on his chest, her voice cloyingly sweet.
“I want you tonight.”
But Daniel pushed her away. He walked out to the balcony alone and lit a cigarette, his expression troubled.
I drifted into my parents’ room.
As I expected, they were still awake, stewing over the expensive dinner.
They sat on the bed, sighing.
My mom pulled out her phone to call me, only to find my number was disconnected.
Their faces grew even darker.
To them, whenever we fought, all it took was one phone call to smooth things over. It was their grand gesture, and I was always expected to fold.
Too bad. This time, no one would ever answer that call.
“David, did you see how Victoria spends money? We can’t count on her to take care of us when we’re old. We still need Emily to pay the mortgage. But she’s not answering her phone… Do you think she really hates us?” my mom asked my dad, her face etched with worry.
My dad took a long drag from his cigarette and scoffed. “We raised her. Her sister is dying. What’s the big deal about her giving in a little? What right does she have to hate us?”
I sat in the corner, listening to their words without expression, feeling the deep, bitter irony.
In that moment, I almost felt that death was a relief.
Two weeks later, their celebratory trip ended, and they returned home.
Victoria, wearing my pajamas, sprawled across the bed I used to share with Daniel, acting as if she owned the place.
Daniel, however, paced the room, searching for something. He looked around and was stunned to realize that not a single trace of my recent life remained in the house.
He stood dazedly in front of what used to be my art studio.
“Daniel, I’m your fiancée now. I don’t want another woman’s things in our house,” Victoria cooed, wrapping her smooth arms around his chest.
“I bought a lot of new makeup. Let’s turn this studio into my vanity room, okay?”
Her voice, sweet and cloying, was like a hook in Daniel’s heart.
But he gently pushed her hands away, a flicker of reason still alive in him. His face was a mask of turmoil. “Victoria… Emily, after all… I only did this to grant your wish. This studio, can we just…”
“No!” Victoria shrieked, cutting him off. Tears welled in her eyes, a look of hurt and entitlement on her face. “I am your fiancée now! You’re not allowed to have anyone else in your heart!”
In the end, Daniel gave in. He agreed to let her turn my studio, the room that held all my dreams, into her personal vanity.
“That one, move it out!”
“That one, throw it away!”
“And that one, get it all out of here!”
Inside the studio, Victoria commanded the movers like a queen, clearing out my treasured easels, paints, and canvases, one by one.
Daniel just stood to the side, watching in silence.
He knew. He remembered how many times I had told him that my biggest dream in life was to have my own art studio.
