CHAPTER 002: He Chose Her

The room erupts into chaos as they tussle, pulling and shoving each other. Mabel shrieks, trying to fend Jessica off, but Jessica is relentless, her face twisted with fury. The guests are stunned, some trying to intervene while others just watch, wide-eyed.

That's right, Jessica. Attack the bitch.

During the chaos, I manage to wrench myself free from William's grip. Fueled by rage, I push past the bewildered guests and make a beeline for Mabel.

She’s still fighting with Jessica, their screams and claws flying. I dive into the fray, grabbing Mabel's arm with a vice-like grip.

“You think you can just waltz in and ruin everything?” I shout.

Mabel’s eyes widen in fear as she struggles to break free, but I hold on tight, determined to make her understand the magnitude of her betrayal.

“You’re a coward,” I spit, my grip tightening. “You can’t even face me like a decent human being.”

Mabel's eyes dart around, looking for help. “Let me go, Desiree!” she screeches, her voice cracking with desperation.

Just then, a loud voice booms over the chaos, “Let her go this instant, Desiree! What is wrong with you? Let her go.”

I look up, my grip on Mabel loosening slightly. It’s Mike.

He stands in the doorway, eyes blazing with anger. His presence seems to freeze everyone. He steps forward, his gaze locked on me. “What the hell are you doing?”

My blood boils even more. “What am I doing? What are you doing, Mike? Cheating on me with my cousin?” I shout back.

Mabel takes advantage of my distraction, yanking her arm free and stumbling back. Jessica moves in front of me protectively, her eyes still burning with rage.

Mike’s face hardens. “This isn’t the way to handle it. We need to talk.”

“Talk?” I scoff, tears welling up. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time, and you want to talk?”

The room falls into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, one of our friends, David, steps forward, breaking the quiet. “Maybe it’s best if we leave,” he says, setting down the bag of confetti with a heavy sigh before turning to walk out.

One by one, the other guests follow his lead.

They exchange awkward glances and murmur apologies as they shuffle out the door, clearly uncomfortable and eager to escape the brewing storm. The festive atmosphere that had once filled the room has completely evaporated, leaving behind a suffocating heaviness.

Within moments, the living room is almost empty.

Only Mike, Mabel, Jessica, William, and I remain, standing in the aftermath of the shattered party.

The once-cheerful decorations now seem mocking, the balloons and streamers a cruel reminder of how quickly everything fell apart.

I look around at the remnants of what was supposed to be a joyous celebration, feeling a deep sense of betrayal and disappointment. Mike stands there, his face a mixture of guilt and defiance, while Mabel avoids my gaze, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Is this who you want to date? A thug?" Mabel's voice quivers as she speaks through tears, addressing Mike with accusation. “She's so wild. Look at my face. They ruined my face." She breaks down into sobs.

Mike's expression hardens as he turns to me, his tone resolute. "You need to leave, Desiree."

"What?" I say, struggling to comprehend the situation unfolding before me. This can't be happening. Not like this.

Mabel scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. "Are you deaf? Pack your things and leave the house. It's over. Take your silly balloons and everything. And your ghetto friend, too."

"Excuse me?” Jessica steps forward, her fists clenched in anger. “Ghetto? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Mike steps between us, his voice firm. "Enough, all of you. Desiree, please. Just go."

I stand there, numb with shock and hurt, feeling betrayed not only by Mike but also by Mabel's cruel words. The room feels suffocatingly small, the weight of their accusations and demands crushing down on me.

Jessica, always loyal, stands by my side with her fists clenched, ready to defend me at any moment.

“Mike,” I begin, my voice trembling with disbelief and betrayal. Tears sting my eyes as I shake my head. “I trusted you.”

“You heard him,” Mabel cuts in. She’s smiling. “You’re not good enough for him. Get yourself out of this house. Anything you leave behind, I’ll burn.”

I feel a knot tightening in my chest, a mix of anger and heartache threatening to overwhelm me. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I try to stay composed despite feeling frozen.

Sensing the rising tension, William steps forward, his voice calm yet firm. "Let's go, Desiree," he says, gently guiding me and Jessica towards the door.

As we’re ushered out of Mike’s house, the finality of the situation hits me like a wave. I turn back to see Mike standing there, his expression unreadable behind the closed door. It feels like a surreal nightmare.

Jessica grips my arm tightly, her eyes filled with unshed tears and anger. “We’ll figure this out, Desiree,” she whispers. “We always do.”

I nod silently, my heart heavy with a sense of loss and confusion.

A few seconds later, Mabel grabs handfuls of my clothing and belongings, hurling them out through the open window with furious energy. My clothes. My shoes. My entire life. Each item flies through the air, spinning and tumbling before crashing onto the ground below. Shirts and dresses flutter like fallen birds, shoes clatter loudly on the pavement, and personal mementos scatter everywhere—photos, trinkets, even my favorite necklace. Jessica rushes to gather them, her hands moving frantically as she tosses my scattered life into a bag.

“I’m so sorry, Dee,” she says, her voice thick with emotion.

I feel numb, the pain too raw to process. The world around me feels surreal, like a nightmare unfolding in slow motion.

“I’ll wait two more minutes,” Mabel’s voice echoes from inside the house. “If you’re not out of the compound by then, I’m releasing the dogs. Don’t bother dropping your keys. I’m changing the locks.”

Jessica starts pulling me away. “Let’s go, Dee. We have to go.”

“Mike,” I call out desperately. “Mike! Mike! Mike!”

But he doesn’t answer.

He chose her, Mabel. My cousin. The one I helped.

He left me.

What am I going to do?