My family don't like me

Ava's Pov:

Ethan helped me out of the car, his hand firm on my elbow as I stepped onto the driveway.

I didn't need the help but I let him do it anyway because that's what he expected and right now I needed him to think everything was normal.

The front door opened before we even reached it.

Vivian stood in the doorway, her blonde hair was perfectly curled, her makeup flawless, wearing a dress that was too nice for just sitting around the house.

She smiled when she saw us.

"Ava! Oh my god, we were so worried about you."

Liar.

She rushed forward, her heels clicking against the marble steps, and threw her arms around me in a hug that felt like a performance.

I stood stiffly in her embrace, my hands at my sides.

Over her shoulder, I could see Ethan watching us with that same unreadable expression.

And then I saw the way his eyes lingered on her just a second too long.

The way his gaze dropped to where her dress clung to her waist before he quickly looked away.

Vivian pulled back, her hands still on my shoulders, her face full of false concern.

"How are you feeling? Does it hurt?" She glanced down at my ankle. "You poor thing."

I nodded and signed that I was fine.

She didn't understand sign language but she smiled anyway like she did.

"Come inside, come inside. Everyone's been waiting."

Everyone.

My heart sank.

She looped her arm through mine and guided me toward the house, chattering the entire way about how scared they'd all been and how they'd wanted to visit but the hospital said only immediate family and Ethan had insisted on going himself.

I barely heard her.

My mind was too focused on what was coming next.

The house looked exactly as I remembered it from a year ago, grand and cold with its high ceilings and expensive furniture that no one was allowed to touch.

My stepmother, Caroline, was waiting in the sitting room, perched on the edge of the cream-colored sofa like a queen on a throne.

She looked up when we entered, her sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"You're back," she said flatly, no warmth in her voice. "Good. Go get me some water. The pitcher in the kitchen is empty."

Not "are you alright." Not "how are you feeling."

Just an order.

I stared at her for a moment, my hands tightening into fists at my sides.

In my previous life, I would have obeyed immediately, eager to avoid conflict, desperate to please her even though she hated me.

But now, standing here with the memory of my death still fresh in my mind, something inside me snapped.

I nodded slowly and turned toward the kitchen.

Vivian's hand touched my arm. "I'll help you," she said sweetly.

I pulled away from her and walked to the kitchen alone.

The house was too quiet as I filled the pitcher with water from the dispenser, the sound of it splashing into the glass unnaturally loud.

I could hear them talking in the sitting room, their voices low and muffled.

I took a breath and carried the pitcher back, setting it down on the table in front of Caroline without looking at her.

She didn't thank me.

She never did.

"Sit down, Ava," she said, pouring herself a glass. "We need to discuss the wedding."

I remained standing.

My father walked in then, his suit jacket slung over his arm, his tie loosened.

He barely glanced at me.

"Good, you're home," he said, sitting down in his usual chair. "We've finalized the venue. The wedding will be at the Grand Belmont in a month."

A month? Was it two months s in my past life? I couldn't remember anymore.

Vivian sat down next to Caroline, folding her hands in her lap, the picture of innocence.

Ethan stood near the doorway, with his arms crossed, watching me.

"Ava," my father continued, his tone became businesslike. "I've already spoken with Ethan's father. The merger will proceed as planned once you two are married. This is important for both our families. Do you understand?"

I understood perfectly.

I was nothing more than a bargaining chip to him.

I was a means to an end. A liability and a burden. No one cared about a mute girl.

Caroline sipped her water. "You should be grateful, Ava. Not many men would want to marry someone like you."

Someone like me.

I am mute, worthless and broken.

That's what she meant.

Ethan shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

My father nodded. "The engagement dinner is next week. We'll announce the date publicly then. Make sure you're prepared."

They kept talking, planning my life like I wasn't even there, like I didn't have a say in any of it.

And then Ethan spoke.

"Ava's been through a lot today," he said, his voice smooth and reassuring. "Maybe we should let her rest."

He walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder, the gesture was meant to look protective, but I saw the way his eyes flicked to Vivian.

I saw the way her gaze met his, just for a second, before she looked away with a small smile.

They thought I didn't notice.

They thought I was too stupid, and too oblivious to see what was happening right in front of me.

And in my previous life, they'd been right.

But not anymore.

I stepped forward, pulling away from Ethan's hand, and positioned myself in the center of the room where everyone could see me.

My father frowned. "Ava, what are you doing?"

I took a breath and raised my hands.

I signed slowly and deliberately, making sure every movement was clear.

I'm not getting married to him.

The room went silent.

Caroline's glass paused halfway to her lips.

Vivian's smile faltered.

My father's expression darkened.

Ethan stared at me like I'd just spoken a foreign language.

"What did she say?" Caroline demanded, looking at my father.

He understood some sign language, enough to get by when he absolutely had to communicate with me.

His jaw tightened.

"She said she's not getting married," he said slowly, his voice became dangerously calm.

Vivian let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "What? That's ridiculous."

I kept my hands raised and signed again, slower this time, looking directly at my father.

I'm not marrying him. The engagement is off.

My father stood up, his face flushing red.

"You don't get to make that decision," he said, his voice rising. "This has already been arranged. The contracts have been signed."

I shook my head and signed again, my movements sharp and firm.

I don't care. I'm not doing it.

Ethan finally moved, stepping toward me with his hands raised like he was trying to calm a spooked animal.

"Ava, let's talk about this," he said, his voice gentle but strained. "You're upset. You've had a difficult day. Let's just sit down and..."

I stepped back, putting distance between us.

Caroline set her glass down hard on the table. "This is absurd. You're being hysterical."

Vivian stood up, her face full of false concern. "Ava, you don't mean this. You're just confused. Maybe you hit your head harder than we thought."

I looked at each of them in turn, my father, Caroline, Vivian, Ethan, and I felt nothing but contempt.

They didn't care about me.

They never had.

My father moved closer, his voice low and threatening.

"You will marry him, Ava. This isn't up for discussion."

I met his gaze and didn't look away.

Then I raised my hands one final time and signed with absolute clarity.

No.