“Oh no, I thought you held it; why didn't you hold it?” she asked as tears gathered around her eyes.
I was furious; she had done that intentionally, and we both knew it. She only wanted to spite me.
“Liar, you let the plate go,” I snapped at her, my stomach protesting as I moved a lot.
“But I didn't; I didn't mean to,” Ana sobbed. Damian shot me a glare.
“Ana, don’t be petty; it’s just taken out. There is no big deal; she was hungry; that’s why she took it,” Chris said.
No big deal? I laughed at myself; the only food I had eaten was the one I ate before I was whisked into the operating room.
Ana shot me a mocking smile and made her way to Damian; she sat on the couch and leaned on him, still sobbing.
“You are such a child, Clara; clean that up,” Damian said as he grabbed Ana and bypassed me.
I looked down at the spilled food as tears washed down my eyes, ‘Where did everything go wrong? Did I do something?’
Chris scoffed in front of me; he walked towards the door, shooting me a mocking glance, stepping on my foot as he passed by.
“See, you are nothing but a servant to my best friend Damian; you might as well leave,” he said before opening the door and stepping out.
‘Don’t worry, I will leave when I recover.’
I went to the kitchen, and with pains all over my body, I picked up raw noodles and began to carefully prepare them.
Finally, some peace,
I boiled water to pour in the noodles as I prepared the other ingredients. I heard light footsteps coming down the steps. Without turning around, I knew who it was.
I heard a spiteful sound behind me,
“This is where you belong, in the kitchen, working as a maid,” she said, but I didn’t reply.
“You know, you have always been my substitute, nothing more but something less. Do you think Damian will love you or feel bad for you when you act pitiful in front of him?”
I heard her walk closer to where I was; she stood beside the stove.
“No Clara, you mean nothing to him; his heart belongs to me. Damian belongs to me; he only married you because you reminded him of me. You are just an alternative; now that I am here, you are no longer needed, okay, so pack up and leave,” she whispers yelled closer to my ear.
When I didn’t reply, it seemed to infuriate her.
“Answer me when I am talking to you,” she snapped at me, but I didn’t even glance at her; I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain.