"You're going to register that marriage tomorrow. If you don't, I'll die right here in front of you. You might not care about your reputation, but I care about mine."
Before I could even react, she snatched the fruit knife off the table and drove it toward her own body.
I lunged for it—
In the scramble, the blade plunged into my lower abdomen.
A dull, tearing pain ripped through me. I couldn't breathe.
I pressed both hands against the wound. Blood seeped between my fingers, soaking through my dress in seconds.
My mother dropped the knife, her face white. "Irene—I'm sorry, I—"
Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, Joel Lambert's eager, ingratiating face was the first thing I saw.
"Irene, you're awake?"
I turned to my mother. "Why is he here?"
"I was afraid I couldn't take care of you alone, so I called him over. You two are getting married sooner or later—it's only right that he looks after you."
Every patient in the shared ward had their ears pricked up, exchanging looks I didn't need to decode.
For the first time, I truly looked at my mother.
And what I saw on her face was unmistakable.
Satisfaction. Gloating.
She'd done this on purpose.
She wanted to push me into the fire. She wanted everyone to witness my humiliation.
Why?
Was I even her real daughter?
My voice came out flat. Dead still, like stagnant water.
"You really want me to marry Joel Lambert?"
My mother nodded. "Of course. It's all I've been hoping for."
The words tumbled out of her mouth like she couldn't say them fast enough.
A chill sank through me—bone-deep, marrow-deep—until I was shaking with it.
All these years, she'd backed me into corner after corner, and I'd endured every single one. Because she was my mother. The only family I had left in this world.
But the things she'd done to me were not the things a mother does.
"Fine. You'll get your wish. The day I'm discharged, I'll register the marriage with Joel. Just give me some peace until then."
A week later, I was released from the hospital.
The next day, my mother posted the marriage certificate in the group chat like a trophy.
[Congratulations to Irene and Joel Lambert on their union!]
[Their wedding banquet is in three days. Everyone must come and celebrate!]
The group went silent. Not a single reply.
But my private messages blew up.
Aunt Grace: [Irene, is someone forcing your hand? Please don't throw your future away!]