Happily Ever After… Without Him

“I didn’t touch you,” I said quietly, but no one listened.

They were too busy hovering over Sabrina, who cradled her hand like it had been severed and not barely nicked. Her performance was flawless—wide teary eyes, a quivering lip, trembling shoulders. Every gesture perfectly calculated.

“You should’ve stopped her!” Nathan snapped at me. “She’s still recovering! Why did you let her near the kitchen?”

“I told her no,” I murmured. “She didn’t listen to me. Why are you blaming me?”

Gabriel’s glare could’ve sliced me in half. “You should’ve insisted. You know she’s not well. You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

“And what about you?” I muttered under my breath. “I’m not well either.”

But again, no one heard me. Or maybe they chose not to.

“Next time, just cook for everyone yourself,” Nathan said sharply. “Sabrina shouldn’t be lifting a finger in her condition. Have some care for her! You guys are best friends, and we’re family here.”

Family? I wanted to vomit at the thought. I started, but the words withered before they reached them. What would be the sense of explaining when they wouldn’t listen to me at all?

“She shouldn’t have to want anything. Just take care of it,” Gabriel cut in. “You’re the one who’s fine now, right? So act like it. Cook for us! We want to eat something decent.”

They took Sabrina—still sniffling—into her room. Nathan had his arm around her like she was made of glass. Gabriel followed, saying something about getting her some ice.

And once again, they left me.

Alone. I stood by the stove, the soup long gone cold. I reheated it without thinking, added some salt, cracked an egg into the pot. My body moved automatically, stirring, ladling, pouring the food into a bowl with practiced care.

But this time… I didn’t cook for everyone. Why would I? They didn’t even want me with them in Finland. They don’t deserve me, not even once, so everything I do now is for myself.

Just for me.

I sat down at the table and began to eat.

The broth was warm, the taste soft on my tongue—comforting. It didn’t fix anything, but at least it was mine.

Halfway through the bowl, footsteps stormed into the kitchen.

Nathan and Gabriel.

“There you are,” Nathan said, glancing at the table. “Where’s our food?”

Gabriel followed with a frown. “Isn’t it done yet? What did you even make?”

I didn’t look up. “Nothing. This is just for me.”

Nathan blinked. “You only made food for yourself? Didn’t you hear me say you should cook for us, and also Sabrina? Where is it now?”

“I’m not your cook,” I said simply, spooning another bite into my mouth. “I didn’t even agree.”

Silence. Then the scoff.

“This is because of Sabrina again, isn’t it?” Gabriel snapped. “God, Elena, when are you going to let this go?”

I didn’t answer.

“She’s sick. She’s hurt,” Nathan added. “Why do you have to be so bitter all the time? What, you think we’re supposed to just abandon her so you can get attention?”

Still, I kept eating.

Bite after bite, the silence growing louder around me.

“You’re so damn selfish,” Gabriel growled. “Seriously. Everything’s always about you, huh? You think the world owes you something just because you were here first?”

I stared at the bowl. My hands trembled slightly. But not from fear.

Just fatigue.

“She didn’t ask to get hurt,” Nathan added. “You’ve been nothing but cold since she got back. She’s trying, and you just… sulk. You’re jealous. Admit it.”

Jealous.

That word again.

The word they always used to shut me down.

I put my spoon down slowly.

“I’m not jealous,” I whispered. “I’m just… done.”

But they didn’t hear it. Or maybe they did and just didn’t care.

Suddenly, Gabriel slammed his palm on the table, making the spoon rattle. I flinched.

“You know what?” he snapped. “You really are nothing compared to her.”

Then, without warning, he grabbed my bowl and threw it against the wall.

The ceramic shattered. The soup dripped down like blood.

I stared at the mess.

Nathan didn’t stop him.

Neither of them did.

“Useless,” Gabriel muttered, shaking his head. “You’re just… useless.”

The words echoed in the air, thick and heavy.

They left the room again, their footsteps fading down the hallway.

I stood there, staring at the broken bowl. The mess they didn’t even try to clean.

And strangely…

I didn’t cry.

Not this time.

Not anymore.

Because I was past that.