green plum

Right in front of everyone, Caleb let his childhood sweetheart, Seraphina, douse me with scalding hot soup. And then, he demanded I apologize. All because I’d said a few blunt words to her. I cried, asking him if my life was worth less than a single one of Seraphina’s fingers. He just gave a dismissive laugh, scoffing, “Stop being so dramatic. You won’t die from a little splash.” I was completely blindsided when Seraphina hurled that entire bowl of spicy, chili-infused soup at me. I froze, my eyes uselessly clapped shut. My carefully chosen dress, my meticulously applied makeup—all of it was utterly ruined, drenched in crimson oil. The pungent spice burned my nostrils and eyes, and tears streamed down my face instantly. The private room fell into a stunned, deathly silence. Everyone just sat back, casually watching the spectacle unfold. I stood there alone, utterly isolated and defenseless. Through my blurry, tear-filled vision, I looked at Caleb. He sat to the side, arms crossed, a frown of clear impatience on his face. “Luna Hayes, apologize to Seraphina.” A wave of overwhelming hurt surged through my brain, instantly bringing fresh tears. For the first time in a long time, I completely lost my composure in front of Caleb, shouting in despair. “I’m your girlfriend! You just stood there and watched me get bullied by an outsider, and now you want *me* to apologize?” Caleb’s frown deepened. He grabbed a wet wipe from the table and dabbed at his sleeve, which had been splashed. “If you hadn’t insulted Seraphina first, why would she have thrown it? And anyway, Seraphina isn’t an outsider.” Seraphina, meanwhile, casually played with her nails, interjecting, “Caleb, is this the kind of daughter-in-law your mother picked? Yelling in public like this, it’s truly a disgrace to the Sterling name.” The icy glare in Caleb’s eyes felt like a sharp blade, piercing right through me. “Luna Hayes, where are your manners?” Soaked and humiliated, I looked at the distant, aloof expression on his face and Seraphina’s triumphant smirk. A bitter laugh escaped me. “What if Seraphina held a knife to my throat one day? Would I still not be allowed to fight back? Or would *that* also be ‘bad manners’ in your eyes?” Caleb scoffed dismissively, “You always overthink everything. It was just a splash, are you going to die?”

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