The sound of the slap echoed across the plaza. Sharp. Loud. Final.
For a second, everything stopped.
My palm burned, but it didn’t matter. The pain inside my chest was worse. Much worse.
Gusion turned his head slowly, jaw tight. When he looked back at me, there was still no regret. Just irritation.
“Wow,” he said flatly. “Did that make you feel better? Was that really necessary?”
I stared at him, stunned. I felt like I was drowning in plain sight.
Around us, people gasped. My mother’s mouth fell open. My father’s face darkened, not at Gusion, but at me.
“Miya,” my father said sharply, his voice carrying that familiar authority he used in boardrooms and press conferences. “Enough. Don’t embarrass the family!"
Embarrass the family.
Not him.
Not her.
Me.
I laughed again, but tears were already blurring my vision. “So you all knew,” I said quietly. “All of you knew.”
My mother stepped forward, smoothing her expensive coat like she was calming herself, not me. “Miya, sweetheart… you and Gusion haven’t been close for a long time. We thought this was the healthiest outcome.”
“The healthiest outcome?” My voice cracked. “You mean lying to me? Letting her sleep with my husband? Standing here clapping while he replaces me?”
Gusion cut in, clearly tired. “Miya, stop. This isn’t helping anyone. You’re exhausting yourself.”
Exhausting.
I wanted to scream.
“This is my daughter’s birthday,” I said, louder now. “You didn’t even call her this morning. You told me you were busy. And now you’re here proposing to my parents’ adopted daughter like I don’t exist.”
Hanabi stepped closer, eyes glossy, voice soft in that fake way she perfected. “Miya, please don’t look at me like that. I never meant for you to find out like this.”
She reached for my hand.
I pulled away instantly. “Don’t touch me.”
Her face hardened. “Why are you acting like this?” she snapped. “I didn’t steal him. You barely noticed him anymore. You were always tired, always sick, always gone. What was he supposed to do? Sit around and wait?”
My stomach twisted. “So this is my fault,” I whispered. “I get sick, and you climb into my marriage.”
She shrugged, eyes cold now. “I was there for him. I listened. I supported him. Someone had to.”
I laughed bitterly. “You mean you waited until I was weak.”
Gusion stepped between us. “Enough,” he said. “This conversation is going nowhere.”