Masuk
SERA
Today was supposed to be my day. My 29th birthday. Just one more year to 30, an age where many women would begin to question their purpose. But I have gifts that make me love every moment, my husband, my daughter…they are my purpose.I was excited to celebrate my birthday with them, but the party was no longer for me; I was practically invisible while guests bustled.
I hid in the corner of my own stairs, watching her steal my life. My hands gripped the rail so hard they hurt. The piano music filled our living room, but it wasn't for me. It was for her. Vivienne's fingers moved across the keys like she owned them. Like she owned my house.
My throat felt tight. Every note hurt.
"Amazing!" The guests praised, forgetting their drinks as they crowded around her red dress. She looked so sure of herself while I felt like nobody could see me in my birthday dress. But Darius made it worse. My husband stood by the piano, staring at her hands like they were magic. That hungry look in his eyes—when did he last look at me like that? Our wedding? When Luna was born? I put my hand on my chest where it felt like something was stabbing me. The ache spread, turning into something else I wish I didn't feel. "Vivienne! You're so cool!" Luna yelled out. My four-year-old daughter jumped up and down, her pigtails bouncing as she clapped. "Can you teach me? Can you be my—" "Your what, baby?" Vivienne's voice was sweet like candy as she bent down to Luna's height. "My mommy! You're so pretty and you play music and—" Mommy? Her words felt like cold water thrown at my face. I couldn't breathe for a second. My own daughter was calling someone else Mommy, as if it were the most natural thing in he world. And Darius? He just stood there. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Everyone started clapping, but I felt like I was drowning. Luna hugged Vivienne's neck tight, and that woman pulled my daughter closer. She whispered something that made Luna laugh. My feet moved on their own. I walked into their little group and everyone got quiet. “Oh…Vivienne,” I said, my gaze flicking between her and the others.“I wasn't expecting you here...I mean...” It was my birthday and I hadn’t invited her. I wasn't stupid enough to invite my husband's ex-girlfriend to my birthday after already spending the past few months watching my husband follow her around as though they were stuck by glue. I just wanted today to be mine. My birthday wish was that Darius and Luna only focus on me today. The three of us hadn't had a proper sit-down meal since Vivienne came back because she always had an emergency and needed help. At least for today I thought, Darius and Luna would finally show me love again, remember that I exist, look me in the eyes and remember… Darius stood up straight, his expression darkened as he met my eyes, his green orbs boring into mine. "I asked her to come, Sera. Don't do this,” His words were so natural, sounding like I was being unreasonable. "I’m not doing anything." I hated how my voice trembled, how I could feel the back of my eyes prickling with the makings of tears. I said bitterly. "I just thought for once, this party would be about us, about me," I met his eyes, intimidating as they were, I had to look at him. I know he's never had great affection for me, not when he was forced to marry me, definitely not. But at least he had consideration, for my feelings, for me. Now with Vivienne? "Vivienne is dying. She only has a year left. All she wanted was to play music one more time." He shook his head, looking like he was getting pissed. “Why do you always have to be like this?” He ran his fingers through his hair, jaw and fists clench tight as he held my gaze with a silent warning. “You know Vivienne is just a friend,” He sighed, relaxing slightly as his eyes darted around the room. “Now isn't the time, Sera.” He added firmly and as always, dismissing my feelings as though it were nothing because of her. The disapproval in his eyes had me taking a step back, my cheeks began burning with embarrassment as I felt the eyes on me, the guests, Vivienne…all judging. Five years ago, Vivienne had broken up with Darius to pursue her music dream and Darius was forced to marry me by his grandfather, despite not wanting to. But now she’s back. Surprisingly, with a terminal illness that left her with only one year to live. Her last wish is for Darius to be by her side to the end. And Darius ate it all up, he forgot everything at the drop of a hat and he’s been stuck to her like glue. I could never figure out why my husband thought it was appropriate to accompany his ex during the last time of her life as if he owed her the whole world. But then again, it was my fault. If I hadn't appeared in his life, Darius would've been able to go after Vivienne, they would've been together and I… Darius kept emphasising that Vivienne was just a friend to him now but seeing how he looks at her everyday, it's hard to believe his words. The guests all stopped talking. I could feel them staring at me, probably seeing me as a troublesome and jealous wife. Luna pulled on Vivienne's dress, looking back and forth between us with big green eyes—just like her dad's. "Mama Sera, are you jealous because you can't play piano? Vivienne could teach you too!" Mama Sera. When did she start calling me that? When did I become second place even to my own daughter? "Luna, sweetie, come here." I got down on my knees and opened my arms, hoping she'd run to me just once. "Could you go upstairs with your nanny while mommy and daddy talk?" But Vivienne's hand went to Luna's shoulder, holding her back. "Actually, Luna and I were talking about the toy room. Right, little star?" My daughter nodded fast, and something inside me broke. Vivienne must think me to be a fool, she already has my husband, does she think I'll standby and let her take my daughter too? I stood up and took a step closer. "She's my daughter." The slap came from nowhere. Luna's little hand hit my wrist. It stung and shocked me. I stared down at her, this tiny person I grew inside me, fed in the middle of the night, loved more than my own life. “Luna…” I gasped, heart clenching almost painfully as I looked down at my daughter in shock. She just hit me. She's never hit me before. "I don't want you!" Luna's face got all red and tears ran down her cheeks. "I want Vivienne! You're mean and scary and I hate you!" She cried, tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks. Everything went quiet. My ears began to ring, incessantly. Hate. My four-year-old daughter hated me. "Sera!" Darius's voice was as sharp as daggers, he quickly made his way to our wailing daughter, reaching for her. “Why did you make her cry?" "I didn't…" I could not find the right words, my mind still reeling from the shock of what had just happened. She hates me because of Vivienne. She hate me. “Luna…” I reached for her again, to console her but this time, Darius blocked her from my view. "I'm her mother!" My voice trembled. "Then act like one!" He snapped, his words made me freeze, almost knocking the air from my lungs. He picked up Luna and she hid her face in his neck, still crying. "Vivienne, why don't you take Luna to the toy room? I need to talk to my wife." Wife. He said it like it was a burden. Vivienne nodded and took Luna from his arms like she'd done it a million times. "Come on, little star. Let's go make music together," She cooked, patting Luna's back softly and whispering words I couldn't hear into her ears. They walked up the stairs to my daughter's room while I stood there feeling like I was dying inside. The guests started talking again, pretending and acting like they didn't just watch me fall apart. Darius grabbed my arm hard enough to hurt. "Bathroom. Now." I pulled away from him. My skin burned where he touched me. "Don't." "Don't what? Don't try to stop you from making this worse?" He asked, eyes narrowed with impatience. I couldn't take it, that look. I already knew he didn't care about me, but to this extent? Does he really think I made my daughter cry on purpose? I ran away from him, pushing through the bathroom door and slamming it shut. I turned on the water as loud as it would go, hoping it would hide the sound of me crumbling to pieces. In the mirror, I saw a stranger. Sad brown eyes dripping with mascara, pale face, empty. When did I become this person? When did I start disappearing in my own life? My body shook as the tears came. They were silent but they hurt so bad. Each suppressed sob felt like it was ripping me apart inside.Twenty-nine years old. A ghost in my own house.
I didn't know how long I cried.
Just then, I heard
Someone knocked on the door soft and careful.
"Sera?" A voice called through the wood.
But it wasn't Darius.JOHNSONI helped Sera back into bed with more force than necessary, frustration bleeding through my careful handling."You just had major surgery," I said, adjusting her pillows harder than needed. "Most people would still be lying completely still. But you? Walking around the hospital like it's nothing."Sera winced as she settled against the pillows. "I was going freaking crazy in here,"Wow. That's the closest she's gotten to using a curse word. I bit back an amused grin. She must really be irritated. "You could've ripped your stitches. Could've caused internal bleeding. Could've—" I stopped myself, running a hand through my hair. "You're impossibly stubborn.""I've been told that before."By me. Yesterday. And the day before that. Despite my irritation, I felt admiration warming my chest. She'd given up a kidney a week ago and was already pushing boundaries, already fighting bed rest, already proving she was stronger than anyone gave her credit for.It frustrated me as much as
DARIUSThe house felt suffocating when we got home.I poured myself a drink I didn't want and stood at the window overlooking the city, trying to process how my life had spiraled so completely out of my control.I hadn't touched Vivienne. Not once.The thought kept circling back, insistent and damning. When she'd first returned into my life with those devastating words—only a year to live—I'd felt pity, obligation, a desire to make her remaining time comfortable. Perhaps there was attraction at first, but it didn't last, it never went beyond care. Never desire.Not during her illness when she'd been fragile and weak. Not after her miraculous recovery when she'd regained strength and color. The engagement had been about guilt and loneliness and filling the Sera-shaped hole in my life with someone who felt safe and familiar. But I'd never wanted her. Had made excuses every time she'd tried to initiate intimacy, had kept physical distance even while planning a wedding only Vivienne seem
DARIUSJohnson's hand on Sera's shoulder looked natural. Comfortable. Like it belonged there.An uncomfortable pang twisted in my chest, the sensation so sharp it made me bite back a groan. I watched the easy affection between them—the way she leaned into his touch without thinking, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the way they moved together like magnets pulled by invisible force.Of course they were together.Johnson was the only one who knew about her health issue, whatever had brought her to this hospital. The only one allowed close enough to scold her about resting, to touch her so casually, to look at her with that kind of open devotion.Why wouldn't they be together? She'd moved on. Built a new life. Found someone who hadn't accused her of betrayal, hadn't destroyed their marriage over lies, hadn't failed her in every way that mattered.Maybe in the end I was the one who pushed them together. Johnson helped her throughout the divorce with the Smith family, he w
SERASeven days of lying in a hospital bed had turned me into someone I barely recognized—restless, irritable, desperate for anything besides white walls and the endless beeping of monitors. Even after I turned mine off, the sound of others were still so freaking insistent! The nurse who'd checked my vitals that morning had warned me to stay in bed, to let my body heal, to give the incision time to close properly. I'd nodded and smiled and waited exactly ten minutes after she left before pulling on the robe Johnson had brought me and shuffling toward the door.Walking hurt. Every step pulled at stitches that felt too tight, sent sharp reminders through my side that I was missing a piece of myself now. But the pain was better than staring at the ceiling for another endless afternoon counting tiles and trying not to think about everything waiting for me outside these walls.The hospital corridors stretched quiet in the mid-afternoon lull between lunch and dinner. I moved slowly, one h
SERAMy awareness came in fragments.Beeping machines. Fluorescent lights too bright against my eyelids. A deep, pulling ache in my side that felt like someone had reached inside me and rearranged everything."Sera?" A nurse's voice, gentle and practiced. "Can you hear me? The surgery went well. Just breathe through the discomfort."I tried to speak but my throat was sandpaper-dry. The nurse held a straw to my lips and I managed a few sips of water that tasted like metal and relief."Monica Smith is recovering down the hall," she said. "The transplant was successful."I closed my eyes and let the medication pull me back under.Days blurred together in a haze of pain medication and physical therapy that felt like torture. Nurses made me walk when all I wanted was to sleep, checked incisions that pulled and burned, adjusted medications that made my head fuzzy.Johnson visited daily, bringing terrible hospital coffee and talking about everything and nothing. I was grateful even when word
SERAThe hospital entrance loomed ahead of me, all glass and steel and the inside that smelled like antiseptic and fear even from the parking lot.I'd driven myself despite Johnson's offer to come with me. Needed the control of arriving on my own terms, of maintaining some shred of independence before I gave up a literal piece of myself.The automatic doors whooshed open and I stepped into the lobby, clutching my overnight bag like a lifeline."Sera!"Johnson's voice made me turn. He stood near the reception desk holding a bouquet of sunflowers, his smile nervous but genuine. He wore jeans and a sweater instead of his usual polished look, like he'd thrown on whatever was closest when he decided to come."I told you not to come," I said, but there was no heat in it."And I ignored you." He crossed the space between us and held out the flowers. "Sunflowers. You mentioned once that they were your favorite. Something about how they always face the sun."My throat tightened. "You remembere







