Chapter 2

“Our anniversary.”

Henry repeated the words slowly, rolling them off his tongue as though they meant nothing. His lips curved slightly, not into a smile, but into something colder. “Is that supposed to be a big deal?”

The sentence landed heavily in the room.

For a brief second, everything went quiet inside Diana’s head. It was as though the walls, the furniture, even the air itself paused to absorb the weight of what had just been said.

She stared at Henry, her eyes wide, searching his face desperately for a trace of humour, sarcasm, anything that would suggest he did not mean it.

But there was nothing.

His expression remained flat, uninterested, already shifting away from her.

Lauren’s reaction came swiftly. Her eyebrows lifted in exaggerated surprise, her lips parting slightly as she turned her carefully made-up face from Henry to Diana. One manicured hand still rested comfortably on Henry’s shoulder, claiming its place without apology.

“Oh,” she said lightly. “I’m sorry. I honestly had no idea it was your anniversary.”

Her tone was sweet, but the sweetness was hollow. There was mockery underneath it, thinly disguised, and Diana felt it immediately. Lauren turned back to Henry, her eyes sparkling with excitement, as though she had just been let in on a joke.

“Henry didn’t mention it,” she added, her voice gentle, almost playful.

He didn’t deny it.

He didn’t explain.

He simply stood there, allowing the silence to do the talking for him.

Lauren then shifted her attention to Selena, crouching slightly so they were closer to eye level. Her voice softened, warm and coaxing. “Selena, it’s your mother’s special day. If she wants the brooch so badly, she can keep it.”

She spared Diana a quick glance, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, before looking back at the child. “I already know how much you love me.”

“No.”

Selena’s response was sharp and immediate. Her small body stiffened, her eyes widening as she shook her head firmly. “It’s for you,” she snapped. “Mommy can’t have it.”

The words pierced Diana more painfully than the cut that would soon follow.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat felt tight, as though something invisible had wrapped itself around it. She looked down at her daughter, disbelief clouding her vision.

Selena stepped forward with determination, closing the small distance between them. Without hesitation, she reached for the brooch Diana had pinned close to her chest.

“Lena, please—” Diana began softly.

“Give it back!” Selena yelled, her voice rising with frustration.

They struggled.

Diana did not push back forcefully. Her movements were slow, hesitant, driven more by instinct than resistance. She did not understand how they had come to this moment—how her own child could look at her with such anger, such rejection.

Selena tugged harder.

There was a sudden, sharp sting.

Diana gasped loudly as pain shot through her palm. The brooch slipped free, its pointed edge slicing through her skin. Blood welled instantly, warm and bright, dripping onto the polished floor.

“Yes! I got it!” Selena exclaimed triumphantly.

She turned quickly, clutching the brooch like a prize, and ran straight to Lauren.

Diana stood frozen.

Her eyes dropped to her hand as blood continued to drip steadily, staining her dress and the floor beneath her feet.

She pressed her injured palm with her other hand, but the bleeding did not stop immediately.

She barely felt it.

What she felt instead was something far worse.

She watched her own daughter cross the room happily, offering another woman the gift Diana had thought was meant for her. The reality of it settled heavily in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Here you go, Miss Lauren,” Selena said cheerfully, stretching the brooch out towards her. “It’ll look way better on you than Mommy.”

Her voice carried excitement. Pride.

There was no hesitation.

No guilt.

Diana’s lips trembled.

‘’Lena, I’m your mother,’’ she whispered silently, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Lauren’s face lit up as she accepted the brooch. She examined it briefly, then smiled broadly. “That’s my sweet girl,” she said, clearly pleased. “Thank you, Lena.”

She lifted her gaze to Henry, her smile deepening. “And thank you for the party, Henry.”

Henry smiled back.

It was a real smile.

Not the forced, distant ones he had given Diana over the years. This one was relaxed, open, filled with warmth.

Diana felt her heart clench painfully as she watched it.

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled. They slid down her cheeks silently, one after the other, as her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears.

She had waited years for that smile.

Years of patience. Years of sacrifice. Years of convincing herself that love required endurance. And now, here it was—freely given, effortlessly offered.

But not to her.

Suddenly, Henry’s eyes dropped to Diana’s hand. He noticed the blood pooling on the floor, the way she was pressing her palm tightly, her fingers trembling.

Something flickered across his face.

He took a step forward. “Diana—”

He moved closer, his hand lifting slightly, as though he might check on her, as though he might ask if she was okay.

For a brief moment, hope stirred weakly in Diana’s chest.

Lauren noticed immediately.

Her grip on Henry tightened. She leaned into him, her voice low, sweet, intimate. “Henry,” she said softly, “why don’t we go upstairs and check if my clothes are dry?”

The words were gentle, but the message was clear.

Henry didn’t hesitate.

“Of course,” he replied, smiling.

He turned fully towards Lauren, his attention shifting away from Diana completely. He didn’t look back. Didn’t say another word.

Together, the three of them turned and headed upstairs. Selena skipped ahead happily. Lauren leaned comfortably into Henry’s side, her laughter soft and satisfied. Henry followed, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

Diana remained where she was.

Her hand still bled. Her tears still fell.

She watched them disappear from sight, their voices fading as they went upstairs, leaving her alone in the living room that no longer felt like her home.

“They look perfect, like a family, and I’m just a ghost in my own home,” Diana muttered as she stared at their disappearing bodies, her face filled with tears.