Robin
×××

I’m starving. Like, starving. All the mingling and fake smiles haven’t done me any favors, and by the time dinner is served, I’m ready to inhale the whole damn buffet.

My plate is a modest portion of chicken and mashed potatoes, but I’m fantasizing about the bread basket when I glance up—and just like that, my appetite evaporates.

Heather’s sitting across from me, right next to Javis.

Every time I dare lift my head, they’re doing something infuriatingly sweet: sharing a private smile, leaning close to whisper, or touching hands like they’re the protagonists of a cheesy rom-com. It is sickening.

Actually, no—it’s enraging.

How am I supposed to explain this to myself? My two-night stand turned out to be my sister-in-law. My actual, factual future sister-in-law!

That’s not just inconvenient—it’s cosmic-level, soap-opera drama, and I am fucking losing it.

I stab my mashed potatoes with my fork and shove them into my mouth, but they taste like sawdust.

I might as well be chewing on a stack of napkins because the scene in front of me has destroyed my ability to enjoy anything for the next two months or so.

Melanie, ever the nosy chatterbox, pipes up from beside me. She starts asking Heather a million questions.

Come to think of it, she will be our fucking sister-in-law, that's what's supposed to happen but goodness it irritates me.

“So, Heather, how did you and Javis meet?” Melanie’s voice is sugary sweet, but I can tell she’s fishing for dirt. That’s her thing and just like me, Melanie is not so trusting.

Heather chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, through a mutual friend. It was a blind date, actually.”

How cheesy.

I can’t help myself. My mouth moves before my brain can get in line.

“Bet that was a real eye-opener,” I say, my tone laced with enough sarcasm to peel paint off the walls.

Melanie snorts into her wine glass, but Javis, determined to keep up, shoots me a glare. “Be nice, Rob.”

I raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I am being nice.”

Heather waves it off, her voice as calm and composed as ever. Like how the fuck are you that calm bitch?

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

She smiles at me—smiles, like she’s perfectly unbothered by all of this—and something inside me snaps.

“So, Heather,” I say, leaning forward slightly, “what do you do for fun when you’re not breaking hearts?”

The table falls quiet for a split second, just long enough for my words to land with a satisfying thud.

Heather doesn’t even flinch.

“I like hiking,” she says smoothly, taking a sip of her wine. “And reading. I’m a big fan of classic literature.”

“Hiking and classic literature. How adventurous.” I offer her a tight smile, leaning back in my chair. “Javis must be thrilled.”

Melanie kicks me under the table, hard enough to make me wince, but it’s worth it. Every word that leaves my mouth feels like a small, petty victory.

Javis clears his throat, his expression tight. “Robin, seriously.”

I shrug, playing it off like it’s no big deal. “What? I’m just making conversation.”

Heather doesn’t say anything. She just offers that infuriating, composed smile, and somehow that pisses me off even more.

Dinner feels like it drags on for hours. The food tastes like cardboard, the wine doesn’t help, and every time I look up, I have to endure the sight of Heather and Javis acting like they want to rip each other's clothes off and fuck right on this table.

By the time Javis stands up, clinking his glass to get everyone’s attention, I’m ready to crawl out of my skin.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” he says, his voice warm and confident. He looks around the room, his eyes landing on Heather with so much love it makes me want to gag.

No, I actually gag and Melanie pinches my thigh.

“This reunion is so important to me, and I couldn’t be happier to have everyone here to celebrate.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath.

“And speaking of celebrating…”

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

More puking for me.

He gets down on one knee, right there in front of everyone, and pulls out a ring. Diamond of course because what did you expect?

Heather gasps—or pretends to, because let’s be real, she had to know this was coming.

“Heather,” Javis says, his voice full of emotion, “will you do me the honor of being my beautiful wife?”

I can’t breathe.

This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening.

Heather doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t even blink. She just smiles—this radiant, picture-perfect smile—and says, “Yes.”

Everyone erupts into applause, and I’m sitting there like a goddamn statue, unable to move or speak or even blink.

Of course, she says yes. Why wouldn’t she? She’s Heather: composed, perfect, always one step ahead. And always fucking her fiance's sister.

The rest of the room blurs into a mess of clinking glasses and cheerful toasts. People stand up, offering speeches about love and family and how happy they are for Javis and Heather.

I can't hear them.

My heart is pounding so hard it drowns out everything else.

This is so messed up.

Why am I even here? Why did I come? Heather’s already broken my heart—why am I sticking around to let her grind the pieces into dust?

When the music starts up and Heather and Javis take to the dance floor, I can’t take it anymore.

I grab my phone and stand up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.

A few people glance my way, but I don’t care. I need to get out of here before I run mad.

I make my way to the door as quickly as I can, pushing past clusters of people without so much as an “excuse me.”

Once I’m outside, the cool night air hits me like a slap to the face.

I can breathe again. Sort of.

But the relief is short-lived, because the reality of the situation crashes down me all over again.

Heather. Javis. The engagement. The lies.

I want to scream, to punch something, to do anything to get this anger and heartbreak out of my system.

But instead, I just stand there, staring up at the sky like it’s going to help me.

Why the hell did this have to happen?

Why her?

Why me?

I pull out my phone, scrolling aimlessly through my messages, but there’s nothing there to distract me. No missed calls, no new texts.

Just me and my messy emotions.

I lean against the side of the building, trying to pull myself together, but it’s no use.

Heather’s in there, dancing with my brother, smiling like she didn’t just break my heart.

And I have no idea what to do about it.

××××

I hope we are having do much fun at this point. And I know, I might not be the best writer out there but my loyal readers sure appreciate my work.

While we are at it, I would like you guys to add my new book to your reading lists. It's a sapphic, werewolf romantasy full of chaos, danger and messy feelings.

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You can find the book on my profile.