Only Me to Count On

The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of baked macaroni and cheese as I pulled the dish from the oven. Steam rose in gentle waves, carrying the scent of sharp cheddar and creamy béchamel sauce. I'd spent hours preparing this meal—Serena's favorite comfort food, according to my mother. A peace offering, of sorts, after the wedding disaster.

"Just a little something to welcome you home properly," I said, forcing brightness into my voice as I set the bubbling casserole on the dining table.

Serena sat at the head of the table, naturally claiming the position that should have been mine. She looked up from her phone with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"How thoughtful of you, Harper," she said, her French accent more pronounced than it had been growing up. "Mother always said you were the domestic one."

I ignored the barb and served portions onto her plate. "I remember how much you loved this when we were kids."

Serena lifted a forkful to her lips, her perfectly manicured nails gleaming under the chandelier light. She took a delicate bite, then another. I held my breath, waiting for some acknowledgment, some crack in her perfect façade.

It never came.

Instead, her face suddenly flushed crimson. Her eyes widened, darting to her throat as she dropped the fork with a clatter.

"Serena?" I leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

She was gasping now, her hands clutching at her collar as if she couldn't get enough air. Red hives erupted across her skin, spreading like wildfire.

"Can't... breathe..." she wheezed.

My mother Victoria burst into the dining room, followed by Richard and Derek. They must have been waiting just outside, like actors timing their entrance.

"What happened?" Victoria cried, rushing to Serena's side.

"She's having some kind of reaction," I said, already reaching for my phone to call 911.

Before I could dial, Victoria's palm connected with my cheek in a slap that sent me stumbling backward. The force of it knocked me into the sideboard, crystal glasses rattling as I caught myself.

"What did you put in this?" Victoria shrieked, her perfectly composed face contorted with rage. "You forgot she's allergic to peanuts, didn't you? Did you do this on purpose?"

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. "What? No! There aren't any peanuts in mac and cheese!"

But Victoria was already cradling Serena in her arms, barking orders at Richard to find her EpiPen.

I struggled to my feet, my cheek burning where she'd struck me. "Mom, listen to me. There are no peanuts in this recipe. I made it exactly how she likes it."

Derek stepped between us, his face twisted with disgust. "That's enough, Harper."

"Enough what? I didn't do anything!"

"You're always so quiet, so passive," he spat. "Now we know why. You've been plotting this all along, haven't you? How could you possibly think hurting Serena would make up for your pathetic wedding?"

The injustice of his words knocked the wind from me. "Derek, you know me. I would never—"

"I don't know you at all," he cut me off. "I don't know how I ended up with a sister who would try to kill someone over jealousy."

Kill? The word hung in the air between us, absurd and terrifying.

Serena's gasping grew more desperate as the hives spread across her neck and face. Richard found the EpiPen and administered it with shaking hands.

"Hospital," he said grimly. "Now."

Everything dissolved into chaos. Victoria gathered Serena in her arms, Richard grabbed their coats, and Derek pulled out his phone to call for the car. No one looked at me as they rushed toward the door.

No one except Nathan.

He lingered behind as the others scrambled out with Serena. His eyes met mine briefly—not with concern or understanding, but with cold calculation.

"I'll stay and clean up," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Someone needs to take care of this mess."

As soon as the front door closed behind them, Nathan's demeanor changed. He pulled out his phone and dialed quickly.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, pacing away from me. His voice dropped to a whisper. "She's going to be fine. Just a mild reaction—the EpiPen will take care of it."

I froze, watching him move into the kitchen as if I weren't even there.

"No, she doesn't suspect anything," he continued. "Once Serena's recovered, we'll announce our engagement. Harper will be handled."

My blood turned to ice water in my veins.

Nathan ended the call and began gathering Serena's things—her purse, her scarf, the designer sunglasses she'd left on the sideboard. He didn't notice me watching him, didn't see me standing perfectly still in the doorway.

He didn't know I'd heard every word.

As he collected Serena's phone from the table where she'd left it, his thumb accidentally swiped the screen awake. A message notification appeared—a text conversation between Serena and someone named Chloe.

Nathan didn't notice. He simply tucked the phone into Serena's purse and continued packing up her belongings.

But I saw it.

I saw everything.

[Today's performance was flawless. Nathan is completely under my spell now. That idiot Harper actually thought he loved her.]

I stood in the empty dining room, surrounded by the remnants of my failed peace offering—the mac and cheese cooling in its dish, the unused place settings, the wine glasses that would never be filled tonight.

Slowly, deliberately, I walked over to Serena's purse where Nathan had set it down. With trembling fingers, I pulled out her phone and took screenshots of the conversation. Evidence of their deception, their conspiracy against me.

This wasn't just about Nathan choosing Serena over me.

This was war.

I placed the phone back exactly as I'd found it and straightened my spine. For the first time since my wedding day disaster, my vision was crystal clear.

Footsteps sounded at the front door—Nathan returning from taking Serena's things to the car. He had no idea what I'd discovered. No idea that everything had changed.

I smiled as I heard him approaching, my face a perfect mask hiding the storm brewing beneath.