happy birthday.
For one fragile moment, things almost felt normal.
Then Vanessa snapped.
Without warning, she grabbed the cake knife from the table and drove it violently into the center of the cake.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
And again.
The room froze instantly.
Frosting splattered across the tablecloth.
Children started crying.
Someone screamed.
Vanessa kept stabbing the cake wildly while shouting:
“Forty-seven times! Forty-seven times you took what was mine!”
Nobody moved.
Nobody understood.
Except me.
Because suddenly every strange interaction between her and Daniel finally clicked together in the most horrifying way possible.
Vanessa wasn’t just jealous of me.
She was obsessed with the life she believed I stole from her.
Her eyes locked onto mine with terrifying intensity.
“You think you won?” she screamed. “You think he ever really loved you?”
Daniel rushed toward her immediately.
Not toward me.
Not toward our terrified child.
Toward her.
That told me
