chapter 6
1229 Words
Mia
The smell of chicken fills the kitchen, warm and familiar, mixing with the sharp sizzle of oil. Christmas music drifts through the speakers—soft, cheerful, completely at odds with the heaviness in my chest. I hum along anyway. Normally, I’d be cooking twice this much, waiting for the man I once loved to come down and join me.
But not tonight.
If Damon wants to eat, he can cook for himself.
He’s going out with Anna—again—and I’m almost certain they’re upstairs getting ready. I thought about going out myself, maybe to the Winter Wonderland in the square, but I just don’t feel like it. It’ll still be there tomorrow anyway; they won’t light the tree for another two weeks.
“How sad,” Anna’s voice cuts through the air behind me. “Eating all alone? If I had known, I would’ve convinced Damon to stay in. We could’ve kept you company.”
Her tone says everything her words don’t—mocking, edged like glass. I force a smile, turning toward her, only for the breath to freeze in my throat.
She’s wearing my baby-blue dress.
And… her hair. She dyed it brown. Exactly my shade.
I refuse to give her the satisfaction of reacting. Turning calmly back to the stove, I say, “I’d rather eat alone than eat with you two. Besides, I’m not the only one with plans. I’m meeting a friend.”
She snorts. “Friend? Since when do you have friends?” She taps her chin dramatically. “Oh wait—you mean the old women down at the facility where your mom is dying?”
My grip tightens on the spatula.
She wants a reaction. She wants me to break.
I won’t.
“Last I heard,” she continues lightly, “your mom needs two lungs. You know how hard it is to get one, let alone two. She’s done. I give her a few more months.”
Breathe, Mia. Just breathe.
But heat rises beneath my skin—my blood, my cheeks, my throat. My vision wavers with the pressure of holding back the explosion clawing at my insides.
I take the pan off the burner carefully, setting it aside. I open the fridge and reach for the BBQ sauce. My fingers brush the cold glass—
A scream tears through the kitchen.
“Mia! Please—please don’t!”
What the hell?
I spin around just in time to see Anna’s smile flash—quick, triumphant. And then, before I can move, she presses her wrist directly onto the red-hot burner.
Another scream follows, this one raw and agonized.
“Anna!” I lunge forward, grabbing her arm and yanking it away from the flame before she can do more damage.
Damon bursts into the kitchen at that exact moment.
Anna’s perfect makeup runs in black rivers down her cheeks. Real tears now. Real pain. The smell of burning flesh fills my lungs, heavy and suffocating.
“What the f**k did you do?” Damon shouts, shoving me away from her.
Everything slows.
My body tilts backward.
My hands reach for something—anything—but catch only air.
My back slams against the floor, knocking the breath from my lungs.
A heartbeat later, my head crashes down. A crack echoes through the kitchen.
Even the music stops.
Pain explodes behind my eyes. My vision blurs at the edges as Damon glares down at me, hatred twisting his features.
“You’re such a selfish b***h,” he spits. “You’re so jealous of me and Anna you’d hurt her like this.”
“I was just—just seeing if she needed help,” Anna whimpers behind him, clutching her blistering wrist. “She snapped when she saw me wearing her dress. I swear, Damon, I wasn’t trying to make her mad. I just liked it. It hurts…”
She hides behind him like I’m the monster.
Damon wraps his arm around her protectively, brushing past me as if I’m nothing.
“You’re an evil f*****g b***h, Mia. All because she borrowed something of yours. You’re not the woman I once knew. You’ve changed.”
They disappear from the room, leaving me on the cold tile, trembling, vision swimming.
It takes a long time to force my body upright. My hair feels wet. When I touch the back of my head, my fingers come away red.
The push.
My husband did that.
He split my head open.
How did it come to this? How did he side with her so easily? He didn’t even ask. Didn’t even look at me.
With blood still trickling down my neck, I grab a dish towel and stumble toward the door, calling an Uber with shaking hands.
Eight staples.
A concussion.
All because I tried to make dinner.
I rest my forehead against the pillar outside the exam room, exhaling shakily.
The nurse who finished stapling my scalp steadies me when I wobble. “Have you got anyone who can stay with you tonight?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I’d feel better if you stayed overnight so we can monitor you… but if you don’t want to, we can’t force you.”
“Like you said—if anything gets worse, I’ll come back. I feel fine.”
She sighs, clutching her clipboard. “All right. I’ll get your paperwork.”
The smell of disinfectant burns my nose as I step further into the hall.
“Are you following him now?”
Her voice again.
Anna stands leaning against the wall, one arm cradled in gauze, eyes bright with cruelty.
“When will this stop?” I mutter. “What do you want, Anna?”
“What does it take for you to understand he doesn’t love you? Didn’t his reaction show you enough?” She steps closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You’re pathetic for staying. Just leave us alone and let us be happy. I can give him so much more than you can. Even a child. Or…” she smiles, slow and sly, “…maybe I already have.”
Her hand drifts to her stomach, circling lazily.
“Wouldn’t that be amazing? A baby you couldn’t give him.”
Something inside me snaps.
For the first time, I step toward her—and she actually falters, stepping back as uncertainty flickers across her face.
“You want to play games, Anna?” My voice is steady, calmer than I feel. “Keep pushing me, and I promise you—you’ll regret it.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “Damon wouldn’t let you touch me.”
“He wouldn’t be able to f*****g stop me.”
She swallows, loud in the quiet hall. Then, regaining false bravery, she shoves my shoulder.
“Get away from me, you psycho.”
I smile—slow, sharp. “You haven’t seen psycho yet. You think I’m a pushover?” I lean in. “I will ruin you.”
“Anna.”
Damon’s voice cuts through the tension. He doesn’t look at me. Not even for a second. His attention is solely on her.
She grips his arm, smug triumph blooming on her face, and he leads her away without a word to me.
I watch them disappear around the corner.
- Writer
