Chapter 3

"We're sorry about last night," Danial said, following me into the kitchen. His voice was softer now, trying to soothe. "We were just worried about Judi. She's so fragile."

Ismael leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. "We're taking her to the track next weekend. Thought it might be fun. You should come. It'll be like old times."

Like old times. The words hung in the air, hollow and meaningless. In the old times, a weekend at the track was for me. It was my escape, a place where Ismael would teach me the lines of the course and Danial would handle the logistics, making sure everything was perfect. Now, I was an afterthought, an invitation tacked onto Judi's special treat.

I saw it then, the shift in their universe. The center of their gravity had moved. It wasn' t me anymore. It was her.

My eyes drifted to a stack of moving boxes tucked away in a corner, already labeled 'Storage.' Danial followed my gaze.

"What are those for?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Just some spring cleaning," I said, my voice noncommittal. I opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water.

"It looks like more than spring cleaning, Ange," Ismael said, his tone suspicious. "You're acting weird. Ever since you got sick, you've been... distant."

He wasn't wrong, but he had the cause and effect backward. My distance wasn't a symptom of my illness. It was a reaction to their neglect.

Just then, Danial's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his expression immediately softened. "Hey, Judi. What's wrong?"

His voice was low and concerned. I could hear Judi's faint, panicked voice on the other end. Something about a flat tire on a deserted road. She sounded helpless, terrified. A classic damsel-in-distress scenario, perfectly executed.

"Stay right there. Don't talk to anyone. We're on our way," Danial said, his voice a comforting balm. He hung up and grabbed his keys. "Judi's car broke down. We have to go."

Ismael was already moving toward the door. "Ange, we'll be back later. We'll sort this out."

They left without a second glance. The front door clicked shut, leaving me in the echoing silence of the house. I stood there for a moment, the cold water bottle in my hand. They didn't even ask if I was okay, if I needed anything. Judi's manufactured crisis was more important than the real, burning chasm that had just opened up between us.

I walked back into the living room. The fire had died down to glowing embers, the last of our shared history now a pile of gray ash. I felt nothing but a quiet resolve.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in months.

"Aunt Carol?"

"Angelina, honey! It's so good to hear your voice. How are you feeling?" Her warm, kind voice was a stark contrast to the coldness that had just filled my home. My aunt was the one who had stayed with me, who had held my hand and cooked for me when I was at my sickest.

"I'm much better, Aunt Carol," I said. "Actually, I have some news. I'm moving."

There was a pause. "Moving? Back to New York?"

"Yes."

"Oh, honey," she said, her voice thick with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Is this because of Danial and Ismael? I saw how they were at the hospital. Always on their phones, always distracted."

I didn't answer directly. "I need a change. And... the wedding is back on."

"The Bryant boy? Well, I'll be. After all these years." She sighed. "I always thought it would be you and one of those two. You three were inseparable."

The memory was a dull ache, a phantom limb. "We were just friends, Aunt Carol. That's all we ever were." The lie tasted like ash in my mouth, but it was a necessary one. A truth I had to make real for myself.

"I'd like to see you before I go," I said.

"Of course, sweetie. Come for dinner tomorrow. I'll make your favorite."

"Thank you," I said, feeling a small, genuine warmth for the first time all day. "And Aunt Carol? Please don't tell them. Not yet. I want to do this my way."

She hesitated for only a second. "Alright, honey. Your secret's safe with me."