Chapter 3 - The Departure
"You're leaving?!" Linda gasped, taking a sharp step forward and grabbing my forearm. "Maya, have you lost your mind? The food is served! The guests are here! The venue is paid for!"
"Yes, Mom," I said, tearing my arm away from her grip with a cold, sharp glare. "It is paid for—by me. Every single cent came out of my savings account. And I didn't spend my hard-earned money so my daughter could spend her ninth birthday weeping in a corner while you validate Nicole's narcissism."
Nicole’s eyes flashed with anger. "How dare you! This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life! You are ruining my engagement party!"
"This is NOT your engagement party!" I shouted, no longer caring if the entire room heard me. The music died down completely. The chatter stopped. Dozens of relatives turned to stare at us. "This is Ava's party. Or at least, it was until you leech off my hard work because you were too cheap to throw your own event!"
Nicole gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if she had been struck. Evan stepped forward, trying to look intimidating. "Hey, Maya, calm down. Nicole didn't mean any harm—"
"Shut up, Evan," I snapped, pointing a finger directly at his face. "You stood by and watched a nine-year-old girl get pushed into a corner so you two could play king and queen for an afternoon. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
I turned back to Ava, gently picked up her little jacket, and wrapped it around her shoulders. I zipped it up, straightened her star-embroidered dress, and took her small hand firmly in mine.
"Maya, if you walk out those doors right now, you are dividing this family!" Linda yelled, her voice trembling with outrage. "Ava is being dramatic, and you are enabling her childish behavior!"
I stopped in my tracks. Slowly, I turned my head to face my mother.
"For nine years, Mom, I’ve stayed quiet," I said, my voice dangerously low and steady. "I’ve let you put Nicole first in everything. I let you give her my college fund, I let you give her my car, and I let you treat me like a third wheel in my own family. But I will never allow you to make my daughter feel second-rate. Nicole, don't you ever call my daughter selfish again. And Mom... don't call us."
With that, I turned around and walked toward the heavy oak doors, holding Ava’s hand tight. As we walked down the grand aisle of the ballroom, past tables filled with relatives who sat in stunned, uncomfortable silence, no one moved to stop us.
We stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, leaving behind the $5,000 tragedy of a party.
The drive home was suffocatingly quiet. The quiet hum of the car engine filled the space between us. I kept checking the rearview mirror every few seconds, watching Ava. She was staring out the window, quietly clutching her stuffed rabbit against her chest.
"Mommy?" she asked softly after ten minutes of driving.
"Yes, baby?"
"Was Aunt Nicole supposed to make that announcement?"
I swallowed hard, keeping my hands tight on the steering wheel. "No, Ava. She wasn't."
Ava looked down at her shoes, her small brows furrowed in confusion. "Grandma told me that you already knew about it. Grandma said you told Aunt Nicole it was okay for her to have her special moment because we're family."
A surge of white-hot anger rushed through my veins. My knuckles turned white against the leather steering wheel. Linda told my nine-year-old child that I approved of this?
"Ava, listen to me very carefully," I said, stopping at a red light and looking back at her. "I had no idea Aunt Nicole was going to do that. I would never, ever let anyone take away your special day. Grandma lied to you."
Ava nodded slowly, absorbing the truth. "Are you mad at me because the party cost so much money?"
My heart squeezed so hard it physically hurt. I pulled the car over to the side of the road, put it in park, and unbuckled my seatbelt to turn fully toward her.
"Ava, look at me," I said, grabbing her face gently with both hands. "I spent that money because I love you and I wanted you to be happy. You are the most important person in my world. The money doesn't matter. You matter. You did nothing wrong today. Do you hear me?"
Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time, a tiny nod came with them. "Okay, Mommy."
When we finally got home to our cozy two-bedroom apartment, Ava took off her pink dress with the embroidered stars. "Mommy, can you please put this dress in the back of the closet? I don't want to see it for a long time."
I tucked the dress away, feeling a lump form in my throat. For dinner, I ordered two large pepperoni pizzas—her favorite—and we sat on the living room rug eating slices, drinking soda, and watching animated movies. By 8:30 PM, Ava was exhausted. She curled up against my side, her eyes heavy, until she finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
I gently carried her into her bedroom, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead.
When I returned to the kitchen and picked up my phone from the counter, the screen was glowing uncontrollably. Notifications were flooding in relentless waves.
43 missed calls. 12 texts from Nicole. 19 texts from Linda. 7 voice messages.
Nicole had sent text after text, screaming that I was an "unstable, jealous bitch" who had ruined her dream moment. My mother had left a voicemail demanding that I immediately issue a public apology on Facebook to "repair the family's dignity."
I was about to turn the phone off completely when a new message popped up from my cousin Rachel.
Rachel: Maya, are you okay? Please tell me you’re home safe.
Maya: We're home. Ava is asleep. I'm furious, Rachel.
Rachel: Maya... you need to know the truth. Aunt Linda called all of us relatives four days ago. She told us to arrive at the venue half an hour early for Nicole’s engagement announcement.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
Maya: What?
Rachel: Yes! Linda told everyone that you personally gave Nicole permission to use the venue. She told us it was a planned 'joint family celebration' and that you wanted to surprise Ava with a big family engagement!
My hands started shaking as I stared at the illuminated text message. This wasn't an impulse decision by Nicole on the day of the party. It was a calculated, pre-planned ambush.
May you like
Then came Rachel's final message:
Rachel: Maya... you need to call the venue manager right now. Linda told us she personally called The Fairview Estate two days ago to make changes to your booking.
