Only then did everyone realize how much weight I'd lost. My once-round cheeks, which my parents had affectionately teased for their baby fat, had now sunken in, leaving me gaunt.
How could I not have lost weight? I had endured endless torture, going without food was the least of it. Most of the time, the pain would knock me out cold.
My parents, though busy, had always doted on me. I had grown up sheltered, never knowing cruelty or hardship.
The two months in that mental hospital nearly pushed me to the brink of insanity.
If not for that lucky charm, would I have even survived to see my parents again?
Everyone was staring at me, clearly puzzled. Bradyn's mother even came over to pinch my cheek.
"You have lost a lot of weight."
I tried to speak, but Kelsie quickly cut me off.
"Ms. Miranda thought she was getting a bit chubby and wanted to lose some weight. Bradyn has heard her say that, haven't you?"
Bradyn's gaze had been lingering on my thin face, lost in thought. When Kelsie suddenly addressed him, he was caught off guard and didn't know how to respond.
Weight loss? I hadn't even been 110 pounds to begin with. Why would I need to lose weight?
I looked up at Bradyn, but he turned away, quietly murmuring in agreement with Kelsie's story, effectively framing my suffering as self-inflicted.
"You're always being so reckless!
"You'll ruin your health if you keep this up!"
Bradyn's father stepped in to smooth things over, instructing the maids to serve the food quickly before we got hungry.
There were fish, shrimp, and chicken...
The table was filled with all my favorite dishes.
"Come on, Giana, enjoy yourself," Bradyn's mother urged.
Under her watchful gaze, Bradyn reluctantly served me with the braised pork and placed it on my plate.
But that was the dish I despised the most.
Bradyn and I had grown up together as childhood sweethearts. How could he not know what I hated to eat?
He did it on purpose. His gaze at me was filled with resentment.
He couldn't openly defy his mother's wishes, so he expressed his dissatisfaction in this way.
And I became his outlet for frustration.
We used to be so happy together! In those two torturous months, I often dreamed of the young Bradyn leaning on my bedside, gently asking me.
"My little Giana, will you marry me when we grow up? I will make you the happiest bride in the world!"
But when the beautiful dream passed, I awoke to an endless abyss...