Chapter 3

When I went back to pack my things, there was a party going on inside.

The second I pushed the door open, laughter drifted in from the living room.

"She actually thinks Dean likes her?"

"A sickly little thing too scared to even eat. If it weren't for the bet, who'd waste three years playing along with her?"

My feet stopped dead.

"Back when Dean first met her, he said she looked clean. Like a flower that had never touched the mud."

"So I bet him I could ruin her."

"That's why I hired people at school to spread it around that she was fat, that she was ugly, that she was disgusting."

"She was so easy to fool back then. A few people insulting her, freezing her out, and she really stopped eating."

"What was our group chat called again? The fattening project? Dean updated her weight in there every day. Watching her drop from a hundred pounds down to seventy was honestly hilarious."

Every word out of Martha's mouth was a knife, driving into me.

Three years ago, I developed anorexia because of the bullying.

Back then, everyone said I was fat, said I was ugly, said I didn't deserve to wear pretty dresses.

Dean was the only one willing to come near me.

He ate with me every day, went with me to the hospital, shielded me from all those vicious stares.

I made him my lifeline.

I never knew the source of those rumors was Martha.

And Dean was the one standing at her side, watching me sink.

Martha laughed and patted his chest.

"She's already been dragged through the mud by the whole internet, her anorexia's back too. She really is rotted straight into the dirt."

Dean was quiet for a moment, then said mildly,

"That's enough. It's your birthday. Stop talking about her."

Martha lifted her head and saw me standing right there in the doorway.

"So this is Dean's little bride-to-be?"

The instant she saw me, Dean's expression shifted.

I didn't demand answers, didn't scream or cry. I only said softly,

"So you really never loved me."

A flicker of irritation surfaced in his eyes.

"Yvonne, do you not know how you got through these three years?"

"I'm the one who nursed you back to health. I'm the one who walked you out of your anorexia."

"Without me, you'd have..."

"So I'm supposed to thank you?"

I cut him off, laughing until tears came.

"Thank you for driving me into an illness, then playing the savior?"

Martha sneered from the side.

"What's the big deal? Aren't you all better now?"

"If you recovered, that just proves we didn't do anything wrong back then."

I looked at her, my chest closing up.

"You drove a living person to the point she was too afraid to eat, and you think you did nothing wrong?"

The smile on Martha's face went cold.

"So what do you want?"

Then she smiled again.

"Here's an idea. You're the one who's terrified of food, right? Eat this piece of cake, and I'll take the video down."

She picked up a slice of cake off the table and held it out in front of me.

Dean looked at me.

"Yvonne, it's Martha's birthday. Don't make a scene."

I stared at that cream cake, my stomach heaving.

Martha went on,

"Just eat it, and I'll have Dean contact the best medical team."

"You can't leave your mother lying in there all for the sake of some so-called dignity, can you?"

Dean stepped over beside me, his voice pressed low.

"Yvonne, don't gamble with your mother's life to make a point."

"If you don't eat, no doctor will dare take on your mother's surgery."

"Eat it, and this can all be over."

In that moment, I finally understood. They'd known my weak spot all along.

Shaking, I took the cake and ate it, bite after bite.

The cream clogged my throat, and I could barely breathe.

Martha clapped and laughed.

"See? It's not so hard, is it? You're doing just fine!"

I forced down the nausea and swallowed the last bite, my tears falling into the cream.

Dean came over and wiped the cream from the corner of my mouth.

"There. That's better."

His tone was as gentle as it used to be.

But all I felt was cold. I pushed his hand away and turned to leave.