Chapter 1

I've been married to Kael Vaughn for three years, and I've never once sat at the head table. My mother-in-law always said that a daughter-in-law shouldn't sit with the guests. My sister-in-law, Tinsley, even posted a photo of the gold necklace I bought her on Instagram, captioning it, "A gift from my big brother."

Everything changed on my mother-in-law's 60th birthday. Right as Kael stood up to publicly announce our divorce, I stood up too.

I placed a stack of documents on the lazy Susan and pushed them toward everyone. I said, "Read these first, then you can finish your announcement." The room went dead silent.

Someone dropped their fork on the floor, but nobody moved to pick it up.

1

After three years of marriage to Kael, I still wasn't allowed to eat at the table.

The Vaughn family had so many rules. During holidays or family dinners, the daughter-in-law wasn't permitted to sit at the main table. I had to wait in the kitchen. I was the one serving the soup, swapping out dirty plates, and pouring the wine.

Three years. Thirty-six family dinners. I stood through every single one of them.

"Sasha, the bisque is getting cold."

"Sasha, bring this platter out."

"Sasha, Aunt Linda needs more balsamic vinegar."

I ran back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. In the summer, the kitchen felt like an oven, and the heat from the stove blasted my face. Sweat poured down my neck. My apron went from soaked to dry and back to soaked again.

No one ever offered me a glass of water.

Last Sunday, my sister-in-law, Tinsley, brought her new boyfriend home. My mother-in-law bragged about making a feast. When she said "making," she actually meant me.

Twelve dishes. Every single one, from washing to chopping to sautéing, was done by my hands. Mrs. Vaughn just stood by the kitchen door, barking orders about the seasoning and the plating. When the final dish was served, I stepped back toward the kitchen corner.

Laughter erupted from the living room in waves.

Mrs. Vaughn's voice rose above the rest.

"Our Tinsley has always been the smart one. She graduated from an Ivy League and works for the State Department. She's not like some people who―"

She didn't finish the sentence. The room went quiet for a heartbeat. It was that kind of silence―the kind that feels like a wet towel draped over everyone's mouth.

Everyone knew exactly who that unfinished sentence was about. Every fork paused in mid-air.

Tinsley took a sip of her drink, her eyes flickering toward the kitchen.

Her new boyfriend glanced at me. He was the only person at the table who seemed to notice I was still standing there. I was holding a stained apron, my face was shiny with oil, and my hair was plastered to my forehead. He opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Vaughn stuffed a glazed rib onto his plate.

He shut his mouth and started eating.

I managed to eat two bites of food that night.

I ate standing up by the kitchen sink. Mrs. Vaughn yelled from the other room, "Sasha, the soup is cold, heat it up."

I put down my fork and went to the stove.

By the time I got back, my rice was cold. The soup was hot, and I brought it to the table. I stood in the kitchen doorway, chewing on the cold, hard rice.

A grain got stuck in my throat, and I had to swallow hard to get it down. There were no side dishes left. Tinsley had taken the last piece of maple-glazed pork.

Kael came home late that night. He didn't turn on the lights, heading straight for the bedroom. He smelled like expensive wine―bitter and slightly acidic. He couldn't handle his liquor; one glass always turned his face red.

As he climbed into bed, he muttered a single sentence.

"My mom's 60th is next month. Get ready."

I stayed on my side of the bed, facing away from him.

"Get ready for what?"

Silence followed. I thought he hadn't heard me. After about thirty seconds, he shifted under the covers.

"Prepare a decent gift. Don't embarrass me like you did last year."

He fell asleep immediately after.

Last year, I bought his mother a 18k gold pendant. It cost me two months' salary. I had visited three different jewelry stores and stood at the counters for forty minutes, comparing every design.

The one I chose wasn't heavy, but the floral engraving was delicate. Mrs. Vaughn took one look at it and tossed it into the jewelry box. She didn't even keep the box open.

That same night, Tinsley posted three selfies. She was smiling, and that gold pendant was sparkling around her neck. Her caption read: "My brother got me this. He has the best taste."

Ten minutes after the post went up, it had thirty-seven likes. Mrs. Vaughn was the first one to hit the heart button.

I didn't pick a fight with Kael. It wasn't that I didn't want to. It was that my throat had been blocked by something for three long years.

I still have a screenshot of that post on my phone. I never deleted it. I don't even know why I kept it.

I just look at it whenever I can't sleep. I look at it, close it, and then look again.