Chapter 5

I wasn't born a vegetarian.

When I was fourteen, my stepmother moved in with her son. He was a chubby, spoiled kid who loved meat.

From the moment they crossed the threshold, I lost my right to eat meat.

One night, I reached for a pork chop on the table. My stepmother slapped my hand away and forced me into the basement.

There, she made me eat a giant bowl of raw, rancid pork fat mixed with grease.

I threw up until my stomach was empty, but she kept forcing it down my throat.

Since then, the smell of grease and meat was forever linked to the damp mold of that basement, to screaming, humiliation, and terror.

When I eventually passed out from malnutrition on the school track, it was Brandon who carried me to the nurse's office.

The school nurse lectured me about extreme dieting, telling me I needed a balanced diet.

She thought I was starving myself to be skinny. I lay on the cot, too weak to explain.

Brandon’s eyes were bright, but his words were sharp.

He corrected the nurse with fierce conviction.

"Ma'am, you don't know anything about her home life. Don't judge her."

He was the class president back then, and I was the girl whose financial aid forms never had a parent's signature.

After the embarrassed nurse left, he turned to look at me.

My pale reflection was mirrored in his eyes. It was the first time I felt the sting of exposed pride.

He didn't say a word, but for the first time, I felt the urge to cry and tell someone everything. Back then, his eyes were filled with pure, aching heartbreak for me.

Nothing like the raging, hateful man standing before me now.

Suddenly, I realized I didn't know him at all.

What made it so hilarious was that he knew everything. He knew exactly why I couldn't eat meat.

Three years ago, when my trauma resurfaced and I had a severe eating disorder, I was seeing a therapist, taking hormone pills, and crying myself to sleep every night.

He had held me tight and whispered, "I don't care if I have to eat grass with you for the rest of our lives. It’s no big deal."

I had believed him.

I was so incredibly stupid.

Tears spilled over as a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"Yes! I’m not normal! So what?"

"It’s not like you just met me today."

"I haven't changed, Brandon. You did." I stared directly into his eyes, my gaze cold and sharp.

"We’re done. Let’s call off the wedding."

"From now on, you never have to force yourself to eat 'disgusting' food ever again."

As those words left my mouth, a massive weight lifted from my chest.

I grabbed my phone and my car keys, turning toward the door.

Chloe grabbed my arm, her voice frantic.

"Evelyn, it’s pouring outside! Where are you going to go?"

She turned to Brandon, shaking his arm.

"Brandon, say something! Don't just let her leave like this!"

He didn't move. He stood there in heavy, stubborn silence.

I shook Chloe’s hand off my arm and walked out. Just as I stepped into the hallway, Brandon’s voice cut through the air behind me.

"She has such a temper. You can't even say a word to her anymore."

"Let her go! She doesn't even have a family. Let’s see where she thinks she can go!"

I let out a cold laugh. The pain in my heart was numb now. My body shook, but my steps only grew steadier.

The people closest to you always know exactly where to plunge the knife.

The day I handed him the blade, I should have known he would eventually drive it into my heart.