Chapter 2

The moment I got home that night, I started packing.

I had just zipped my suitcase shut when the front door burst open.

Daniel and Gina stumbled in, laughing and shoving each other.

Gina was practically draped over Daniel’s shoulder, doubling over with laughter.

"Stop pushing me! You know I'm right!"

Daniel tried to shake her off, grinning.

"You're delusional. Absolutely."

They kept fooling around until they finally noticed me standing nearby.

Daniel nudged Gina aside and pulled a few brochures from his bag like he was presenting a prize.

"Here, corporate girl. I had a friend track down some wedding planning catalogs.

“Take a look when you have a second."

He handed them to me.

I stared at the glossy photos of wedding dresses on the cover, hesitating for just a second.

But Gina had already lunged forward and snatched one open.

"Wow, look at this venue! Daniel, look!"

Daniel leaned in.

Their heads came together as they flipped through the pages, their fingers pointing back and forth.

"Ooh, this one is perfect. I love it!"

"The ballroom looks a bit small, don't you think?"

"Why are you so picky? We're going with this one!"

They started bickering playfully again.

Gina swatted Daniel’s arm, and he caught her by the wrist, the pages rustling loudly between them.

Holding her wrists tight, Daniel laughed.

"Keep teasing me and I won't book it."

Gina ducked her head, giggling. "Okay, okay, I give up. Let go..."

He finally released her, casually messing up her hair.

Standing on the sidelines, I felt like the ultimate third wheel.

It was glaringly obvious.

Compared to me, Gina looked much more like Daniel’s bride.

The house was being renovated to Gina's taste.

The wedding was being styled to Gina's aesthetic.

Flipping to a certain page, Gina suddenly said, "I want these flowers at the venue. Massive bunches of them. I’ve envisioned it for years."

Daniel nodded. "Done. That is it."

I stared at Daniel, who was so busy validating Gina's opinions.

Suddenly, I spoke up. "I like red roses."

Daniel looked up, startled.

Gina stared at me too, blinking in surprise before bursting into a laugh.

"Are you serious, Grace? Who uses red roses for weddings anymore? That's so tacky."

Daniel chuckled along, reaching over to pat my head.

"Gina's right. These flowers look so classy. Red roses are what we liked when we were kids.

“Come on, you need to let Gina help upgrade your taste."

His hand rested on my hair.

It was a familiar, warm touch, but it suddenly made me feel sick to my stomach.

My eyes stung.

I crouched down quickly, pretending to adjust my already-packed suitcase.

The cold metal zipper bit into my fingertips. I didn't dare look up, terrified my tears would spill over.

But the truth was, I had spoken up before.

Many times.

Last winter, when we were picking out curtains, Gina chose a dark grey pattern.

Standing beside them, I murmured softly, "Wouldn't the cream color feel a bit warmer?"

Gina hadn't even looked up. "Grey hides stains better."

Daniel, scrolling through his phone, had mumbled, "Let's go with Gina's pick. She has an eye for this."

The row of cream curtains had hung right in front of me, swaying slightly, but neither of them looked at them again.

The summer before last, the three of us went on a trip.

Gina wanted to see the desert out west. I said I wanted to go to the beach.

Daniel, who was booking the tickets, replied without lifting his head, "The desert is so much cooler. Plus, Gina spent two weeks making the itinerary."

That day, I sat on the couch, silently watching them chatter away about the trip.

I was unable to wedge a single word into the conversation.

Once or twice, I thought it was just a coincidence.

Five or six times, I thought I just wasn't being assertive enough.

By the tenth or twentieth time, I started to doubt myself.

I wondered if the things I liked were genuinely inferior.

Was I really tacky for liking red roses?

Was cream really that impractical?

Was the ocean really not worth seeing?

So, I tried to change.

But no matter how much I adapted, they still never asked for my opinion.

I was like a guest who always arrived after the feast was over.

And by the time I would open my mouth, they would have already eaten my share.

My tears were wetting the zipper handle.

Daniel’s voice drifted down from above. "Grace, why are you packing a suitcase? Business trip?"

Gina chimed in, "Yeah, where are you going?"

I took a deep breath, looking up, intending to tell them I was leaving for good.

But as soon as I raised my eyes, I saw they had already looked back down, absorbed in the brochures again.

My mouth opened, then closed.

Never mind.

If someone didn't listen to you the first hundred times, the hundred and first time wouldn't make a difference.

I bent over, grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and said softly, "I'm leaving."

Daniel didn't even look up.

"Hurry back. We're supposed to go ring shopping in a few days."

Gina waved at me without looking.

"Safe travels, Grace! Oh, and lock the door on your way out!”