I’m Not Your Second Choice

Something in my head snapped. I stared at Terrance in utter disbelief.

He acted as if I weren't even there, his gaze fixed on Stephanie, admiration written all over his face.

"Everything looks good on you."

Fine. We were done, anyway. I didn't need that teddy bear.

That was what I told myself, over and over.

Stephanie curled her lips in satisfaction. When she looked at me, her eyes were full of mockery, her voice soft and sweet in that deliberate way.

"Vivian, Terrance gave me your ring. You're not upset, are you?"

"Why would she be? She doesn't even wear it," Terrance said flatly.

Then he pulled out his phone, getting ready to take pictures of Stephanie.

"Wait, I haven't taken photos of you yet. You look amazing today. Can't miss this."

Claude rushed over to stand beside her, taking her hand for the photo like they were mother and son. I stood off to the side, like I didn't belong there at all.

I wanted to tell them to get out, but my flight was coming up fast. I didn't have time to waste. I forced it down and bent to gather my clothes, putting them back into the suitcase.

Stephanie suddenly seemed to remember something. She turned, cut off the worst part of the cake, and held it out to me.

"Look at me. I got so carried away taking pictures that I almost forgot you haven't had any cake yet. I heard you like grapes, so I had them add grape jam just for you."

I let out a quiet laugh. She was the one who liked grapes. Just last month, Terrance bought the largest vineyard nearby just so she could have some.

And because she complained that peeling grapes was too much work, he made me peel them for three straight days. Now even the sight of grapes made my head throb.

This was just an excuse to make me eat that ruined cake.

I frowned and refused without holding back. "I'm not eating it. I'm allergic to cream."

Claude was young. It made sense if he didn't remember.

But Terrance knew. I told him on the very first day we were together.

And after that, there had never been anything with cream around me.

I thought that would be enough for them to drop it.

Instead, Terrance let out a cold laugh.

"We've been together this long, and I've never actually seen you have an allergic reaction. Stop being dramatic. Stephanie's not asking you to eat the whole thing. One bite won't kill you."

But it would.

When I was a kid, I once snuck a bite of cream. That same night, I ended up in the ER.

After that, my parents cut everything with cream out of my life. They said they never wanted to go through that kind of fear again.

I didn't want to give my parents another reason to worry. I turned to leave, but Terrance grabbed me and yanked me back.

"Can you stop making a scene? Stephanie came all this way to bring you cake. You think she has nothing better to do? She's just being kind because you're alone. You have to eat it."

He gripped my chin hard, forcing my mouth open, then shoved a spoonful of cream inside. I choked, coughing nonstop, my face burning red.

"What the hell, Terrance?" I glared at him, bent over, and spat the cream into the trash.

But some of it had already gone down. I could only hope nothing would happen.

He looked at me coldly, not a trace of guilt on his face. "I've never heard of anyone dying from eating cream. You're the only one who makes a big deal out of everything."

I didn't want to argue. I was leaving anyway.

But the way he looked at me made my anger flare.

Just as I was about to stand up and say something, Claude suddenly ran over with a grin.

The next second, he smashed a piece of cake straight into my face.

For a moment, everything went quiet. When I came back to myself, my vision was blurred with cream.

Laughter filled my ears.

"Mom, you look hilarious like this! I've got to record it and post it," Claude laughed, holding up his phone.

I wiped the cream off my face, caught sight of Terrance and Stephanie smiling, and turned, stumbling into the bathroom.

The tears came before I could stop them. I thought I could leave calmly. But facing their humiliation, I broke anyway.

I had just finished washing my face when something felt wrong. The skin that had touched the cream started to itch and burn. When I looked closer, small bumps had already broken out. It looked bad.

Then pain spread through my throat and lower abdomen, and even breathing began to feel strained.

I didn't expect the reaction to hit this fast. I tried to call an ambulance, only to realize my phone was gone.

My breathing got worse. I tried to walk out, but my strength drained away, and I collapsed onto the floor.

I felt awful.

"Terrance… Help me… Claude…"

Outside, the three of them were smearing cream on each other, laughing and jumping around the living room. Cream was everywhere, the whole place a mess.

I shouted for help with everything I had, but it was like they couldn't hear me.

No one came.

In my haze, I even caught Claude's dismissive voice.

"Mom's probably pretending again. Just ignore her."

Just as the air was slipping away and everything started to go dark, the bathroom door was pushed open.