My Husband Kicked Me Down at His Mother’s Birthday Party, Then His Family Called It a Joke

Chapter 5
One Vanilla Cake Marked The First Birthday Of Freedom Again

Caleb looked confused. “But your birthday isn’t for months.”

“Not that birthday.”

Jules understood first.

She picked up the lighter.

Odessa leaned against the kitchen counter, smiling.

Around us was the small apartment I had moved into after rehabilitation—the first home I had chosen entirely for myself. The walls had no holes from arguments. Nobody controlled the front door. My phone stayed wherever I left it because I no longer had to hide messages or explain calls.

My crutches leaned against the chair.

Seven months earlier, I had been unable to feel my feet.

Now I could cross my own kitchen slowly.

That deserved something.

“So what are we celebrating?” Caleb asked again.

I thought about Rhett’s conviction.

The divorce.

Walking into court.

None felt quite right.

Then I remembered the foyer. Jules asking about my bruises. Odessa saying no to Lenora. Caleb refusing to delete his video. Me finally looking at Rhett and saying the same word.

“No.”

That had been the beginning.

“My first birthday,” I said.

Odessa laughed softly. “Your first?”

“The first one where my life belongs completely to me.”

Nobody made a joke.

Jules lit the candle.

For six years, birthdays, holidays, dinners, and family gatherings had been measured by Rhett’s mood. Was he irritated? Had I embarrassed him? Had I said the wrong thing? Could I fix it before everyone noticed?

Now there was nothing to manage.

Only cake.

People who believed me.

A room where I could breathe.

I closed my eyes.

For years, whenever I wished for change, the wish had always been about Rhett.

Please let him calm down.

Please let him apologize and mean it.

Please let tonight be different.

Please let him become the husband I kept telling everyone he was.

That evening, I did not wish for him to change at all.

I did not wish for Lenora to understand me.

I did not wish for an apology.

Their choices belonged to them now.

Mine belonged to me.

I opened my eyes and blew out the single candle.

Caleb clapped.

Odessa handed me the knife.

Jules grinned. “Birthday girl gets first piece.”

I looked down at the vanilla cake with its ridiculous pink roses.

The last time I had carried one, I ended up on the floor while people told me my pain was not real.

This time, nobody took it from my hands.

I cut myself the biggest piece.

THE END
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental! Thank you! 💓