003 - Never Play Piano Again

SERA

I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror, pale skin, puffy red eyes that screamed failure. My chest tightened as I heard the footsteps outside the door.

"Just a minute!" I called out, grabbing my makeup bag with shaking fingers. I had to look perfect. If any guest saw me like this, Darius's family would have more ammunition.

See? She can't even hold herself together at her own party. Not that they'd bothered showing up anyway.

I dabbed concealer under my eyes, trying to erase the evidence of my breakdown. My hands trembled as I applied lipstick, the red color mocking me—almost as bold as Vivienne's dress.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

Vivienne stood there, arms crossed, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

"Look at you," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "So broken already."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Even dying, she looked more alive than I felt.

"This isn't your business," I said, stepping around her. My shoulder brushed hers as I tried to pass.

"Oh, but it is." Her voice stopped me cold. "Don't you want to know what I told Luna in the toy room?" She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

My blood turned to ice. I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Stay away from my daughter!” The words slipped out like a growl. "This is between us. If you drag Luna into your sick games, I swear—"

"You'll what?" Vivienne laughed, the sound sharp as breaking glass. "Did you see how they protected me? Your own husband and daughter chose me over you. Face it, Sera—I matter more to them than you ever will."

Don't listen. Don't let her win.

My nails dug into my palms as I fought to stay calm. Without another word, I walked away, my heels clicking against the marble floor.

I needed air. Space. Somewhere she couldn't follow.

The greenhouse in our backyard has always been my sanctuary. Glass walls surrounded beds of roses and jasmine, their sweet scent usually calming my nerves. The party noise faded here, replaced by the gentle hum of the heating system.

But my peace was short-lived.

Vivienne had followed me, her red dress a slash of color against the green plants.

"Even your hiding spots are pathetic," she said, running her finger along a rose stem.

I turned my back to her, focusing on a pot of white orchids.

"Get out!” I dismissed angrily but didn't hear her move.

The sound of metal scraping concrete made me whip around. Vivienne held a gardening shovel, and before I could react, she swung it at the glass wall.

CRASH!

The sound exploded through the greenhouse. Glass shards rained down like deadly confetti, and I stumbled backward, my ears ringing. The world tilted sideways as dizziness hit me.

"What are you—" I started, but stopped when I saw her reach for a large piece of broken glass.

"No!" I lunged forward, but I was too late.

Vivienne dragged the sharp edge across her forearm without hesitation. Blood bloomed instantly, running down her pale skin in bright red streams.

I stared in horror. She was a pianist. Her hands, her arms—they were everything to her career. Why would she—?

The metallic smell hit me, and my stomach lurched. But even as nausea rolled through me, I moved. I grabbed the white tablecloth from the potting table and pressed it against her wound.

"You're insane," I whispered, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

Vivienne smiled through her pain, then threw her head back and screamed.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Her voice carried through the house like a siren. Within seconds, I heard running footsteps. Panic. Shouting.

Darius burst through the greenhouse door first, his face white with terror. Behind him came our guests, the household staff, everyone drawn by her cries.

"Get the first aid kit from the study!" I shouted to Maria, our housekeeper. The woman ran off immediately.

Blood soaked through the tablecloth. My hands were stained red as I fought to keep pressure on the wound, panic filled my voice. "We need to get her to a hospital. I think she hit an artery."

"Darius—please help me," Vivienne sobbed, her voice weak and trembling. "I'm so scared I'll never play piano again before I die."

"What happened?" Darius dropped to his knees beside us, his hands hovering over Vivienne like she might break.

Vivienne's eyes met mine for just a second. I saw the calculation there. Then her face crumpled with false innocence.

"Sera and I had a little argument. She got upset and pushed me. I fell into the glass." Her voice was barely a whisper. "But don't blame her. She's trying to help me now."

Her words had me going still. My mouth fell open as I stared at her, this woman whose bleeding arm I was literally holding together.

"How could you?" Darius's voice was deadly quiet, but his eyes burned with rage as he looked at me. "She's dying, Sera. This could kill her faster."

"I didn't push her!" The words exploded out of me. "I was trying to stop the bleeding. We need to get her to a hospital right now!"

But I could see it in his face—he'd already decided I was guilty. In a room full of people, only Vivienne and I knew the truth. And she was the one bleeding.

"Stop lying!” His voice broke. "Are you saying she cut herself?"

That was exactly what happened. But how could I prove it?

"Darius, please—"

"Don't." He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me away from Vivienne. Hard.

My feet slipped on the glass-covered floor. I threw my hands out to catch myself, forgetting about the sharp fragments everywhere. Pain shot through my palms as glass bit deep into my skin.

Meanwhile, Vivienne swayed dramatically, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Vivienne!" Darius scooped her up like she was made of porcelain and rushed toward the house.

I sat there on the greenhouse floor, surrounded by broken glass and my own blood. Slowly, I pulled shard after shard from my palms. Each piece sent fire through my nerves, but the physical pain was nothing compared to watching my husband choose her over me.

Again.

Our guests clustered outside the greenhouse, whispering behind their hands. Their looks said everything—pity mixed with disgust. Poor jealous wife, finally snapped.

"Mommy?" Luna's small voice cut through the murmurs.

I looked up to see my daughter standing in the doorway, her nanny Lucy behind her. Luna's blue eyes were wide with confusion and something that made my heart shatter.

Disappointment.

"Why did you hurt Vivienne?" she asked, her bottom lip trembling.

"Baby, I didn't." I crawled toward her on my knees, not caring about the glass cutting through my dress. "I would never hurt anyone. It was an accident."

Luna stared at my bloody hands, at the broken greenhouse around us. I watched her trying to make sense of what the adults had told her.

"I want to go see Vivienne at the hospital," she said finally.

She turned away without another word, her small hand slipping into Lucy's. Just like her father, she walked away from me when I needed her most.

I sat alone in the ruins of my sanctuary, tears mixing with blood on my cheeks. The truth burned in my chest like acid—everyone I loved had chosen her.

Maybe it was time I chose myself.

Maybe it was time to leave.