CHAPTER 6: The Slap That Split Us

Sabrina’s POV

“Good morning, Bree,” I yawned as I walked to the fridge for some orange juice.

“Good afternoon to you, too. It’s past 3 PM.”

“Damn! I took a long nap,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes, still half-asleep.

Bree paused what she was doing to look at me.

“Sabrina, I just hope that one day, all this ends. Ami’s bills, dancing at the strip club… It’s taking a toll on you. You juggle so much. Do you even remember what fun feels like?”

“Fun?” I scoffed. “All that matters now is Ami’s health, school, and the club. I can’t afford to get distracted. Lady B already complained that I came in late last night. If they kick me out, I’m finished. Even if I land a job at the supermarket, my pay cheque won’t cover a quarter of Ami’s hospital bills.”

Bree sighed. “But seriously… when will it end? Do you plan to keep dancing forever? Maybe give love a chance? Just find a guy, any guy at all, who can help ease the burden.”

“Bree,” I said sharply. “Those kinds of men are controlling, and I’m not getting caught in that mess. My grades are good. If I keep this up, I’ll graduate with a first-class degree. You know what that means! A Wexford Institute of Business and Arts first class? That’s a ticket to a real job and a stable life. We won’t have to struggle anymore.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” she shrugged. “I’m making mac and cheese with ham. Want some?”

“Hell yeah. I’m starving; I could eat a whole cow.”

I grabbed a plate and handed it to her. I was about to tell her about Nico’s offer, but I paused. Bree could be brutally honest, and I wasn’t ready to hear judgement or discouragement about my possible $100k opportunity. So instead, I changed the topic.

“Speaking of guys... you’ve been going on more dates than I can count. What’s the latest? Are you seeing anyone now?”

“Sabrina, is the universe against me?” she asked with a dramatic pout.

I giggled as I took a bite of my food, still standing.

“Why do you say that?”

“They’re all sweet on the phone, on chat. But the moment I go out with them, I hate them instantly. They just piss me off.”

“Babe, I don’t get it. Piss you off how? Did one of them try anything weird?”

“No, no, not like that. They just act... off. Like something is wrong with them, and I can’t deal.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Bree, you can be extra and super judgy. Tell me what happened with the last guy.”

She dropped the spoon and held her chest like she was reliving trauma. “He’s a foodie. Ordered three burgers and sides. Ate them all before I even took a bite of my food. And as if that wasn’t enough, he took a gulp of my mocktail!”

I burst into loud laughter. I knew she was overreacting, but Bree was Bree. No one could tell a ridiculous story like her.

“Wait… you ghosted him for that?”

“Isn’t that reason enough? I mean, what if we get married someday and he eats my legs or boobs because we run out of food?!”

I nearly choked on my food. I couldn’t stop laughing. My stomach hurt from it. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that kind of lightness.

“Bree, please. You’re too dramatic. Okay, what about the guy before him?”

“That one was a nerd. Came on our date wearing medicated glasses.”

I raised a brow. “So?”

“So? How can I be with someone who can’t even see the next table without his seeing aids? How’s he supposed to see the future with me? That’s a red flag!”

“Oh my God!! Bree!”

“Wait, I’m not done,” she continued. “He even said he doesn’t see himself getting married in the future. And I told him, ‘Of course you don’t! You can’t even see past the next table without your glasses; how could you possibly see the future?’ That was the last thing I said before I walked out.”

At that point, I was doubled over in laughter. Bree was unhinged in the most hilarious way. It felt good to laugh again. To breathe, even just for a moment. For a second, I forgot about Ami’s monitors, the stench of antiseptic, Skye’s vanishing acts, and the endless weight pressing on my shoulders.

I felt... happy.

But just as quickly as it came, the moment shattered.

The door creaked open.

Skye walked in.

No smile. No apology. No “I’m home.”

Just silence.

She walked past us like we didn’t exist and headed straight to her room.

The air grew still. Bree and I exchanged a look, and just like that, the warmth drained from the room.

I followed her, Bree trailing behind. And there she was, packing her stuff.

“Sup, Bree,” she said casually, not even acknowledging me.

I moved toward her and grabbed her arm.

“Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?!”

“Why should you care?” she shot back.

“Are you kidding me? You think it’s okay to disappear like that?! No call, no message?”

“Look, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m moving out. That way, I’ll be out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with me ever again.”

“You must be stark raving mad,” I snapped, the fury boiling in my chest.

Then the smell hit me.

Weed. It clung to her hoodie like perfume.

“You’re sixteen, Skye! And this is the life you’re choosing? Running away and smoking God knows what? Is that how you want to end up?”

She spun around to face me. Her eyes were hard. Bitter.

“Mum and Dad left too! I don’t see you screaming at them! So why can’t I do the same?! This house is stupid anyway!”

I wasn’t thinking.

My hand moved before my brain caught up. I slapped her.

The sound of my palm connecting with her cheek echoed louder than anything else in the room.