Chapter 3

The bathroom light was harsh and glaring.

Leaning against the sink, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My lips had turned purplish blue, and my complexion was ashen, like a dead man.

My lungs spasmed in waves. Every breath drained every ounce of my strength.

I turned on the faucet, trying to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth with cold water.

In the corner of the sink sat the empty herbicide bottle, exactly where I'd left it. I stared at it for a long moment, my mouth twisting into an ugly smile.

From the living room came the sound of a cake being cut.

Today was Independence Day, and also Dad's birthday. I had booked this country lodge two weeks in advance and spent all my savings on it, just to make them happy.

"Happy birthday to you…" The cheerful singing drifted through the thin bathroom door.

"Dad, make a wish!" Elliot's voice rang out.

"I wish for our Elliot to become a huge internet star, and that Diane finds a wonderful husband someday," Dad said, full of energy.

There wasn't a word about me. His wishes never included me.

I slowly made my way back into the dining room.

A beautifully decorated cream cake sat in the center of the table. Emily cut the largest slice and handed it to Elliot.

"Here, Elliot. This slice has the most strawberries."

Then, she noticed me. She paused briefly before casually pointing to a small slice of cake at the edge of the table. "That's yours."

I didn't move. My eyes were fixed on the engagement ring on her ring finger.

"Emily," I called out, my voice barely audible. "Back when the debt collectors came after you, I was the one who stood in front of you. The knife nearly severed the tendons in my hand. Why did you think I'd survive being sent overseas?"

Emily froze. The dining table instantly fell silent. Dad slammed the plastic cake knife down.

"Harry Hart, are you trying to ruin our night? We already told you it was fake! It was acting! What's so hard to understand? Do you really have to rain on everyone's parade like this?"

Diane jumped in as well. "Emily only did it to make the prank look realistic. Why are you being so stubborn?"

Emily set down her plate with a loud clatter, irritation flashing across her face.

"If that's what you think, I can't do anything about it. If you're determined to play the victim, go ahead. Maybe we shouldn't get married at all. Would that make you happy?"

This was her favorite weapon. Every time we argued, she'd threaten to call off the wedding. And I'd back down every time, because I loved her and was terrified of losing her.

But this time, all I felt was ridicule.

With difficulty, I raised my hand and slowly slid the engagement ring off my finger. Then I placed it on the table.

"Okay."

Emily was stunned. Her eyes filled with disbelief as she stared at the ring on the table.

"Harry, are you serious? Do you honestly think anyone besides me would put up with your boring, depressing personality?"

I didn't have the strength to argue anymore. The oxygen in my lungs was disappearing. I felt like a fish thrown onto dry land, mouth opening and closing, yet drawing in nothing.

"I'm tired. I want to lie down."

Without looking at any of them again, I turned and walked toward the guest room.

Dad's furious voice sounded behind me. "If you walk into that room tonight, don't ever call me 'Dad' again! Our family doesn't need an ungrateful son like you."

Elliot raised his phone and kept filming my retreating back.

"Guys, Harry is throwing a tantrum because he's embarrassed. What do you think? Should we go pound on his door?"

I never looked back. With every step, the tearing pain inside my body grew worse.

At last, I reached the guest room. I stepped inside and locked the door, shutting out all the noise and cruelty behind me.