The room fell into a shocked silence. The sound of the knife clattering to the floor echoed sharply, breaking the stillness. Without another word, I turned and walked away, head held high. Behind me, my fellow caterers followed suit, leaving the party in solidarity.
Back at the restaurant, my friends enveloped me in a warm hug. Their comfort unraveled the tight knot of emotions inside me, and I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. My chest ached, as though my grief had seeped into my very bones.
But my anguish wasn’t over yet. Bobby stormed into the restaurant, his face twisted with fury. He grabbed my arm, dragging me outside.
"You ruined everything, Irish!" he yelled, his voice venomous. Without warning, he slapped me hard across the face.
I held my stinging cheek, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my heart. With a bitter smile, I met his eyes. "What was I supposed to do, Bobby? Stay silent and still while watching my husband propose to another woman?"