I cleared my truth as I said. “There’s this jewelry show tomorrow,” I said, looking between them. “It’s supposed to be really unique. Thought maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Harvey looked up from his phone, his expression unreadable, and I felt a flicker of hope. Nicolas, too, paused what he was doing beside Savvy, his gaze briefly meeting mine. For a second, I could see us together, the three of us laughing and enjoying ourselves, maybe even grabbing a late dinner afterward to talk about all the ridiculous, over-the-top pieces we’d seen.

But then, Harvey’s eyes slid over to Savvy. “Actually… we told Savvy we’d hang out,” he said, almost apologetic. “We’ve been kind of behind on plans with her, you know?”

I felt my stomach drop a little. I tried to keep my voice light, pretending it didn’t matter. “Oh. Right, of course. I get it.”

“Yeah, sorry, Sabrina,” Nicolas added with a slight shrug, giving Savvy a small, affectionate smile. “We can catch the next one, maybe? It’s just… we already promised her.”

I nodded, fighting to keep my disappointment from showing. I didn’t want them to see how much it hurt, how I felt like a kid left out of a game. “No, it’s fine,” I said quickly, plastering a smile on my face. “I totally understand. You guys have fun.”

But the sting was there, sharp and undeniable. I tried to ignore the uncomfortable knot in my stomach as I headed to my bedroom. Lying in bed later, staring at the ceiling, I felt foolish for being so affected. It was just a jewelry show. It wasn’t a big deal, really—so why did it feel like I’d lost something more?

I woke up early that morning, still a little stung from last night.I knew they didn’t care about glitz or designer pieces, but I’d hoped they still cared about me even if it was just a little. Instead, they’d made some excuse about wanting to spend time with Savvy—again. I tried to ignore the feeling it stirred up, that gnawing insecurity that seemed to creep in more and more whenever she was around.

Still, today was going to be different. New York was alive and humming, and I wasn’t going to let last night’s rejection ruin my mood. I left my bedroom and moved toward the kitchen, my bare feet cool against the marble floors of our apartment. I froze as I caught Savvy’s voice drifting from around the corner.

“... she’s so uptight, you know?” I heard her murmur, her tone sweet but sharp-edged.

I edged closer, quietly stepping just near the doorway, enough to overhear but not be seen. She was on the phone.

“She’s so self-important, like she’s the only one who matters,” she continued. “It’s no wonder Harvey and Nic spend so much time with me now.”

Lovely’s voice crackled faintly on the other end of the line, and Savvy giggled, the sound making my skin prickle. I had to take a deep breath, trying to swallow down the growing ache of her words. I’d always felt that Savvy didn’t like me, but I’d never imagined she would be so… cruel about it. The fact that Harvey and Nic didn’t see through her manipulative charm stung even more.

When I finally walked into the room, she ended the call with a smile, her eyes darting toward Harvey and Nic, who were perched on the kitchen stools, watching her with fond amusement. Savvy glanced up at me, her grin widening.

“Oh, Sabrina, you’re just in time!” she chirped, holding out a plate toward me. Nestled on it was a neatly frosted cupcake. “I made these myself.”

I forced a smile, even as something in me recoiled. I didn’t want to indulge her—didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. But Harvey and Nic were watching me expectantly, their expressions so relaxed, so… trusting. Did they not see what I did?

“Sabrina, come on,” Nic said, urging me with a smirk. “Don’t be rude. You’ve been… distant lately. It’s not a big deal to try one, right?”

The remark stung, and before I could respond, Harvey chimed in.

“Yeah, you should at least taste it. Savvy went to the trouble of making these for us.” His tone was casual, but his gaze held a subtle challenge. They weren’t asking—they were demanding, their eyes silently accusing me of looking down on her.

I bit back a sigh, knowing that no answer I gave would satisfy them. So, reluctantly, I reached out, taking one of the small cupcakes. I took a hesitant nibble, hoping a small taste would be enough to make them happy.

As soon as the flavor hit my tongue, alarm shot through me. Almond. I could taste it immediately, that distinct, slightly bitter taste. My heart skipped a beat as I looked up, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Savvy, what’s in this?” I asked, desperately trying to hide my panic.

She blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Oh, just a touch of almond extract,” she replied breezily. “For flavor.”

The fear rose in my throat, thick and suffocating. “I—I’m I’m,” I managed to choke out, tossing the cupcake aside as the reaction began to set in.

Harvey scowled, his expression darkening. “What’s wrong with you, Sabrina? Savvy put effort into these, and you’re just… throwing it on the ground?”

I could barely hear him. My throat was starting to feel tight, my breathing more labored. I didn’t have time to argue, didn’t have time to explain. I turned away, shakily grabbing my phone, dialing 911 as I felt my hands trembling.

Through the haze of my panic, I could hear Savvy’s voice in the background, a faint thread of feigned concern winding through her tone. “Why is she acting like that? Was my cupcake really that bad? Is she usually this dramatic?”

“No, Sav, your cupcake is amazing, Sabrina is just….” Nicolas trailed off with gritted teeth.

Harvey’s low, exasperated murmur reached me. “It’s Sabrina. You know how she is.”

The operator picked up, and I managed to tell them my address and explain my reaction, though my words felt thick and heavy. I could feel my vision swimming as the reaction took hold. But I couldn’t forget the last thing I’d overheard: the dismissive indifference in their voices as they spoke about me, as though I were just an inconvenience in the middle of their perfect morning.

I stumbled to the living room and dropped onto the couch, waiting for the help I knew was coming. The irony of it was almost laughable. Here I was, fighting for air in my own home, the place that was supposed to be safe—a place I had built with them, where I should feel loved, protected.

Harvey and Nic finally came over, their expressions more annoyed than concerned. Nic knelt beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder as though to keep me still. “Jesus Christ, Brina, why do you have to be so fucking dramatic about everything?” he said, his tone irritated rather than reassuring.

I glanced at him, my breath hitching painfully. I couldn’t believe it—couldn’t believe any of it. These were the two people I’d given everything to, the two people I trusted most. And in my moment of vulnerability, they stood there, indifferent.

Savvy watched from the doorway, her expression unreadable, but her lips were curled into a subtle, satisfied smile.

The taste of almond lingered bitterly in my mouth as I gasped for air, trying to fight off the rapid swelling in my throat. “I’m… aller-,” I managed to choke out, pointing to the cupcake on the floor. I’d tossed it aside in panic, but Harvey and Nicolas seemed oblivious to the severity of my reaction.

Nicolas folded his arms, his expression both irritated and perplexed. “Sabrina, what is wrong with you lately? This is so unlike you. You’re acting… unreasonable.”

“Unrecognizable, even,” Harvey added with a disapproving frown.

I stared at them in disbelief, my vision beginning to blur. Between gasps, I forced the words out, desperation making my voice tremble. “It… it had almond in it. You both know… I’m allergic. Remember how you used to… protect me?”

Silence filled the room as the reality of my words began to sink in. Harvey’s face shifted, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Nicolas looked down, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks.

“We’re sorry,” Nicolas muttered, though his tone was stiff, as though he was embarrassed to admit they’d overstepped. “But… you should know Savvy put a lot of effort into making those cupcakes. She didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Harvey chimed in, glancing over at Savvy, who was standing a few feet away, looking wounded and on the verge of tears. “She tried her best. The least you could’ve done was appreciate that, Sabrina.”

The pang of betrayal stung more deeply than the allergic reaction itself. But there was no use in arguing. They were already looking past me, moving toward Savvy, murmuring reassurances and offering comforting smiles.

The doorbell rang, and I turned as two paramedics stepped inside. Harvey gave me a quick, dismissive glance, then turned back to Savvy, his arm around her shoulder, comforting her as if she were the one suffering.

I went with the paramedics in silence, my throat closing tighter with each second, both from the reaction and the ache of betrayal. By the time we reached the hospital, I felt as though I’d left more than just that cupcake on the floor. A part of me—the part that had once trusted Harvey and Nicolas more than anyone in the world—was crumbling away.

---

I spent the next few days in recovery, alone in my hospital bed, replaying the events over and over. I was exhausted from hoping that one day they’d see me again—the real me, the Sabrina they’d once protected, cared about, and maybe even loved. But as each hour passed, the feeling that something had irrevocably changed between us solidified. I couldn’t stay somewhere that left me feeling so unseen.

As soon as I was discharged, I packed my things, each item a reminder of moments that now felt tainted. It wasn’t just the apartment—it was my father’s house, the place I’d inherited and tried to fill with new memories, with love. Now it felt empty, like a hollow shell.

As I walked through each room, packing up fragments of my life, the walls seemed to close in, the familiar spaces now thick with silence. My fingers brushed the edge of the kitchen counter where I’d once sat with Harvey and Nicolas, laughing until we cried over burnt pancakes that neither of us wanted to admit were our fault. I remembered us dancing in the dim light of the living room, spinning wildly to an old jazz record of my father’s, their laughter mixing with mine.

Now, the countertop felt cold under my hand, the laughter replaced by a hollow quiet that echoed back every step. I reached for a framed photo of my father, his warm smile meeting mine, and the ache in my chest deepened. This house had been his dream, every corner of it filled with pieces of him—the worn armchair by the window, the shelf he’d built himself in the study, the smell of his cologne still lingering in his closet.

As I sealed up the last box, I looked around one final time, trying to feel the love I’d once put into these walls, hoping I’d feel the warmth that had carried me through countless nights. But all I saw were empty spaces where memories once lived. It was as though the house itself had already let go, waiting for someone who could see past the echoes and turn it into a home again.

I handed the keys over to my father’s old colleague that afternoon, his hand lingering on mine as he looked at me with a knowing sadness. "I'll take good care of it, Sabrina. Your father… he'd be proud.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I know you will. Thank you.” And as I turned away, the weight of the house finally lifted, leaving nothing but a quiet acceptance in its place.

---

Weeks later, I was sitting at my favorite coffee shop, that familiar buzz of excitement and nervousness swirling in my stomach as I glanced at the door. Harvey and Nicolas had reached out, asking if I’d meet them for coffee. A small spark of hope lit up inside me, despite everything. Maybe… maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe they’d realized what they’d lost, what I’d been trying to hold onto all these years.

I looked down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, tracing the rim with my finger, just as the two of them slid into the booth across from me.

“Sabrina,” Harvey started, his gaze level but distant. “Thanks for coming.”

Nicolas nodded, though his expression seemed more curious than apologetic. “So, we heard you sold the house.”

I felt a little flutter in my chest as I nodded, wondering if they’d bring up the real reason I’d left—the hurt and the distance that had been growing between us. But instead, Harvey raised an eyebrow, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation.

“Don’t you think that was… extreme?” he asked, watching me carefully. “I mean, over a minor incident with a cupcake?”

I blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Minor?” I echoed, trying to keep my tone even. “It wasn’t just about the allergy—it was about you two not… seeing me. You were too focused on Savvy to even notice.”

Nicolas tilted his head, frowning thoughtfully. “We didn’t think it was that serious, Sabrina. Maybe you’ve been feeling down lately? You know, stressed? We thought a trip might help.”

I forced myself to swallow back my frustration, looking away from the worry in their faces that somehow still wasn’t really for me. “I… appreciate the thought.”

Harvey’s eyes lit up. “We could all go together, just us… and, you know, maybe Savvy could come too? We don’t want to leave her out.”

“Yeah,” Nicolas agreed, flashing a grin. “If it’d make Savvy happy, why not? Maybe Lovely could tag along too. They’re so close, after all.”

For a moment, the words tangled in my throat, the sharp reminder of how distant we’d grown echoing between us. But then, a strange calm settled over me.

“Actually, I bought a camper van,” I replied, my voice steady. “It’s perfect for a road trip.”

Harvey and Nicolas exchanged glances, and to my surprise, their eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

“That sounds amazing!” Nicolas said, leaning forward. “Savvy would love it. We could get some supplies, make it a whole adventure.”

I smiled, but this time, it was for me. Let them have their trip, their perfect little setup. I’d already made my choice.

As they started planning, eagerly discussing how much fun Savvy would have, I felt a weight lift.

I’d barely been able to catch my breath after leaving the house. Every step forward seemed like it came at a cost, as if I were leaving pieces of myself in my wake. But I needed this visit, a final goodbye to a man who had been my steady light after Dad was gone, someone who’d taught me how to balance accounts, how to shoulder the weight of a business, how to find myself.

As I walked into the familiar corridors of the nursing home, the antiseptic smell stung my nose, reminding me of every visit, of the faint warmth in my grandfather’s gaze that always soothed the worst parts of my day. I found him in his favorite armchair by the window, light streaming onto his face, making him look every bit the strong, quiet force he’d always been for me. He looked up and smiled as I approached, but there was a question in his eyes, as if he already knew why I’d come today.

"Grandpa," I managed, my voice soft, barely audible as I sat beside him. "I... I wanted to thank you. For everything."

He placed a gentle, weathered hand over mine. "I’m proud of you, Sabrina. You've come so far."

I felt the familiar burn in my eyes, and before I knew it, tears slid down my cheeks, uninvited and impossible to stop. “I’ll keep making you proud. Even if it’s from a little further away.”

His gaze softened, and he gave a small nod, swallowing his own emotions. "That's all I ask, sweetheart."

I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in, but my voice came out shakier than I’d like. “You know, you’re just saying that because you’re my grandpa. Bound by the law of unconditional love and all that.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar, like a soft blanket on a cold day. “Ah, but I’m also a retired lawyer, remember? I know a thing or two about judgment.”

“Oh, I know.” I smiled, rolling my eyes. “You’re like the master of judgment.”

“Master of judgment?” he raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Don’t forget—I’m also the master of checkers, Scrabble, and—let’s not forget—pancake-flipping. Who taught you those skills, young lady?”

“You didn’t ‘teach’ me, you just cheated less when I got older.” I nudged his shoulder lightly, letting out a small laugh as he raised both hands as if conceding. “Besides, I think I was flipping pancakes better than you by age twelve.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding with a wise, exaggerated look. “That’s called a legacy, Sabrina. A master leaves the apprentice his skills, and then watches them thrive.”

“Oh, is that what it’s called?” I teased, feeling lighter, the tension between us melting away. “And here I thought it was just you letting me ‘accidentally’ win so I’d want to make you breakfast every Sunday.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with the warmth of countless Sunday mornings. “Now that,” he said, lowering his voice to a mock-conspiratorial tone, “was just good strategy.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You know, Grandpa, you’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, you’d be in trouble for admitting you used me to get free pancakes.”

“Used you?” He put a hand to his chest, pretending to be wounded. “You wound me, child. I was merely a humble old man, teaching his granddaughter the fine art of the griddle.”

I let out a snort, swiping at a stray tear. “Okay, Grandpa,” I said, smiling. “We’ll pretend that’s the truth. Just for today.”

He squeezed my hand, leaning in a little closer. “You were always smarter than me, Sabrina. That’s why I never needed to worry about you.”

“Even now?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He nodded, giving my hand a little shake. “Especially now. You have your father’s strength and your mother’s kindness, Sabrina. That’s what makes you special, not the house or the company. I know you’re doing what you need to do.”

A quiet settled over us, one of those moments where neither of us had to say anything because we understood. And I knew that even though I’d be leaving, part of me would always be here with him.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, not wanting him to hear the worry there.

“I’ve got my crossword puzzles, my nosy neighbors, and the nurses who pretend I’m charming,” he replied, flashing a grin. “And, you know, the occasional visit from my granddaughter to make sure I’m not scaring off the staff.”

“Just don’t get too bold with the nurses, okay? I’m not ready to hear you’re causing trouble around here.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “They like a little trouble. Keeps life interesting.”

I shook my head, laughing. “I can’t believe this is real life. You’re incorrigible.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not proud of it,” he said, giving my hand a reassuring pat. “Now, no more worrying. Go out there and make your own trouble.”

I wanted to stay in that moment, wanted to cling to every word and store it in a corner of my mind I could revisit anytime. But the goodbye was looming, and no amount of warm words could erase that. He must have felt it too, because his expression softened, and he took my hand, folding it between both of his.

“You’ll come back and visit me, won’t you?” he asked, a bit of that rare vulnerability slipping through.

“Of course, Grandpa,” I whispered, my voice tight as I fought back a fresh wave of tears. “You’ll always be my favorite person to make pancakes for.”

“Well,” he said, his voice lowering to a gravelly whisper, as if he were revealing a great secret. “Then I guess you’d better bring syrup when you come. The good stuff.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing, even though my heart felt like it was breaking. “None of that imitation nonsense. Only the best for you.”

He leaned back, satisfied, his eyes misty as he looked at me. “Good girl. Now, off you go before I get soft on you and start crying too.”

For a moment, it was just us. No heaviness of past decisions or the ache of lingering disappointments. But just as I was about to say my goodbyes, footsteps sounded down the hall, and my heart sank as Harvey and Nicolas appeared, followed by Savvy.

Of all times.

They were smiling as they walked in, Savvy chattering into her phone. Her voice bubbled over, “Oh, Lovely, I’m sad you couldn’t join us today! And I know Harvey and Nic are missing our little pup, too!”

My eyes flickered to Harvey and Nicolas, standing at her sides like pillars, so involved in her life it was hard to remember when they’d felt that way about me. A hollow pang settled in my stomach. How many times had I begged them to get a pet together? Something that would feel like it was ours, a little commitment. But they’d both brushed it off, saying they didn’t have time for ‘childish’ things, that a pet was something people with real commitments like marriage made together.

Marriage. What was so hard about marrying me? To have a family, children m, loving husband. I swallowed, and that was why I had to leave. They couldn’t give me these things.

No, they didn’t want to.

I forced a smile, pushing the jealousy down. “Hey, guys.” I greeted them, trying to keep things light, even as I felt my heart tugging at the sight of Savvy between them, so at ease in a space that had once been ours.

Harvey’s gaze drifted over me, taking in the redness of my eyes. “You okay, Sabrina?” he asked, a hint of concern there, but tempered by a faint distance. Nicolas looked between me and my grandfather, clearly noticing the tears.

I laughed it off, shrugging. “Just saying goodbye. You know how Grandpa is, he always gets a little emotional.” I squeezed my grandfather’s hand, and he smiled, knowing full well why I’d chosen to brush off their questions.

Savvy, still on her phone, laughed suddenly at something Lovely had said. She turned, glancing at me with a smirk. “Oh, you know, Sabrina,” she began, as if we were friends, “we were just talking about how nice it would be if Lovely could come visit. She’s dying to meet Harvey and Nic’s dog. It’s just so cute!”

My throat tightened, and I kept my gaze locked on my grandfather, even as the words cut deeper than I’d expected.

“Sounds...nice,” I managed to say, forcing another smile as I straightened, brushing off my blouse. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to intrude on your visit.”

But as I turned to leave, Harvey reached out, catching my arm. His grip was firm, like he wasn’t ready to let me walk out just yet. “Wait, Sabrina. We hardly got to see you. Can’t you stay a bit longer?”

I looked up at him, feeling the familiar pull of his presence, that soft ache that always felt like home but never seemed to be mine alone anymore. Nicolas stepped closer, his eyes scanning my face, searching, as if he were trying to understand something he hadn’t considered before.

And yet, all I could feel was the weight of Savvy’s gaze on me, the girl who had somehow, inexplicably, become a center in their lives that I couldn’t seem to break through.

I could still feel Harvey’s and Nicolas’s pleading eyes on me as I left the nursing home, their voices asking me to stay, to join them for just one meal. But I had no more time to spend on their empty gestures. “Sorry, I have to be at the jewelry show,” I’d said, and I could see the confusion ripple across their faces. They didn’t get it—how could they? They still thought I was theirs to hold onto when convenient, never expecting I might want more.