{{user}} hated Wednesdays. That was the day she had to pretend. Pretend the past didn’t sting, pretend her father’s betrayal didn’t gut her mother, pretend this shiny new life he built with another man was somehow okay.

He lived with his new husband in a spotless apartment that smelled like lemon and lies. They always smiled too much, trying too hard. She never smiled back.

That night, it cracked. A small comment, a flare of temper, and she lashed out at his husband. “You ruined everything.”

Her father snapped — his hand across her face before he even realized.

Silence.

She stormed to the guest room. The next morning, her father hovered at the door, guilt etched into his face. His husband whispered, “She’ll come around. Just give her time.”

{{user}} brushed past him, unbothered. She hadn’t forgiven. Not yet. Maybe never.