Chapter 2
842 Words
William and I had been engaged for three years, and we'd never let a silent standoff drag on past the week mark.
Within three days, I was always the one to swallow my pride and go to him first.
This time, though, I wasn't going to be the one to compromise first.
Two days later, William's mother, Vivienne Vance, came looking for me.
She fixed me with a displeased look. "Annie, I know Julie got a little willful this time, but you're going to be the matriarch of this family one day, and that means learning to be more generous and looking out for her more.
"Her parents gave their lives protecting me. The least you can do is show her a little pity."
Listening to Vivienne talk, I couldn't hold back a cold laugh.
It was always the same. No one ever brought up what I'd suffered, only how pitiful Julie was.
The moment I pushed back with a single word, I was the one being aggressive.
Vivienne had disliked me from the very start. If marrying into my family hadn't bought the Vances something far more valuable, the place at William's side would have gone to Julie without question.
There was a time when I couldn't stand Vivienne's cutting remarks and wanted to walk away for good.
But that same night, William came to my house and swore right in front of my parents that he'd never let his mother push me around.
I believed him.
It was just that believing him didn't change anything at all.
Vivienne never came at me head-on. Instead, she took Julie's side without condition and used Julie as a weapon against me. "Julie's pitiful enough as it is. She even put a gun to her own head to prove herself. What else could you possibly want?
"Her father's dying wish was to see his daughter get married, and that's the only reason she made that wish on her birthday. Why can't you understand that?"
The words sent a sharp twist through my chest.
'So now I'm the one who has to understand Julie? And who is ever going to understand me?'
My father was gone too.
His last wish, as the illness took him, had been to attend my wedding, yet all William ever said was that he was busy and that I should think of the bigger picture.
'And now I'm the one expected to show some understanding?'
I couldn't do it.
"Mrs. Vance, William and I are done. I'll be gone soon. You can rest easy."
As I turned to leave, I ran straight into William and Julie coming through the door.
William's face was dark. He'd clearly caught some of what I'd said.
Julie, on the other hand, was holding a cake, and she spoke up, "Annie, don't be upset. William bought this for me specially. I heard you like it too, so I want you to have it."
I stared at the cake.
My chest gave a sharp, twisting ache.
I'd told William plenty of times how much I loved the cake from that particular bakery.
Every single time, he told me he was too busy.
So he'd never really been busy. He just hadn't wanted to buy it for me.
I looked at William, and the ache in my chest made it hard to breathe.
William came over and took hold of my arm. "You know my mother already has her issues with you. Just apologize to Julie in front of her today, and we can put all of this behind us."
I let out a short, bitter laugh.
"I just said we're done. Why would I care what your mother thinks of me?"
When I finished, the whole enormous mansion went dead quiet.
"William! Look at the woman you chose. She doesn't respect me in the slightest. Think about it. What will she do once she's the matriarch? How will she torment Julie and me?
"I still prefer Julie. She always knows how to read a room, and she's thoughtful."
Vivienne pitched her voice higher on purpose.
I knew she wanted to humiliate me, but I was long past letting that kind of thing land.
I slid the engagement ring, the one stamped with the Vance family crest, right off my finger and set it on the table. "No need. I wish you both a happy marriage."
Then I headed for the door.
William came after me in a few long strides and caught my arm. "It's been days. Long enough for you to cool down. I'm busy. I don't have time to keep coaxing you. Just behave."
Every word out of his mouth struck me as absurd.
I didn't want to deal with him, but he wouldn't let go.
In the struggle, I lost my footing and hit the floor.
The old wound that hadn't even scabbed over yet tore open again and started to bleed.
He looked briefly rattled at the sight, though the accusation never left his voice. "You're hurt. Why didn't you say something?"
- Writer
