The Scales Were Never in My Favor

"This bathroom's too plain. Wouldn't a bathtub be so much better? I could soak in it whenever I'm stressed. I love a good bath."

Lindsay Hartley stood in the bathroom doorway, pouting.

Something in me tensed, but before I could say a word, Carl Curran answered for me without even a second thought. "Of course we can. I like a bathtub too. Soaking is so relaxing."

"Right, Blaire?"

I couldn't count how many times he'd already agreed to something before he remembered to ask my opinion.

When we agreed, everyone was happy. When we didn't, we voted on it.

And in every vote before this one, I'd been the one who lost.

Take three days ago, for instance. I'd been stranded outside the airport in a raging storm, and I'd called him to come pick me up.

The three of them had chattered away on their end of the phone, voting.

"Lindsay says she wants a late-night snack, and she just got a reservation after waiting two days for it. Just take a cab home."

The next second, their vote came through on my phone: the late-night snack with Lindsay had won with three votes.

I'd spent the whole night stuck in a cold, damp corner of the airport.

I clenched my fists. "Fine, put in the tub. Give her what she wants. I don't want to get married anymore."

The living room went dead silent.

Carl frowned, looking at me with displeasure.

"You're calling off the wedding over a bathtub? Every decision about this place has gone to a vote from the start. If you can't handle losing, just say so instead of being so petty about it."

Mark Hartley's expression turned cold too.

"Lindsay isn't a stranger. You're her sister. What's the harm in giving her a bathtub?"

I looked around the room. The whole apartment had turned out nothing like what I'd designed.

The closet Lindsay wanted. The floor-to-ceiling windows Lindsay wanted. Even the private bathroom had to have the tub she wanted.

Nobody seemed to notice that this was supposed to be my future home.

Sensing the tension, Lindsay tugged at my arm, playing sweet.

"Sis, I don't need it after all. Don't be upset..."

Carl immediately pulled her behind him. "Leave her alone. It was a fair vote. Since when does throwing a tantrum make her right?"

Mark nodded along and told the designer to add the bathtub that had won three votes to nothing.

The two square meters of space that was left wasn't even enough for the washing machine I'd already ordered.

The three of them stood pressed together, just like that, with no room left for me.

And I didn't want to squeeze in anymore.

I opened the list for the overseas training program and confirmed my name was on it.

Then I sent my supervisor a text.

Me: [Director Anders, I've decided to accept the transfer.]