The caterer added, “She covered everything. She was medically unable to cook with a cast.”
The room went silent.
“You’re humiliating me!” Ethan yelled.
“I tried talking,” I said. “You ignored me. You told me my broken arm was bad timing for your birthday.”
I lifted my cast.
“I didn’t ruin your party. You did.”
I grabbed my bag.
“You can’t leave,” he said. “We have guests.”
“No,” I said. “You have guests.”
Outside, my friend Lauren waited. She helped me into the car.
“You ready?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “But I’m leaving anyway.”
I turned my phone off.
That was the last party I ever hosted for him.
And the first day of my real life.
