Phoebe's head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing into sharp, venomous slits. "And what the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice slicing through the chatter. "Shouldn't you be setting the table instead of watching TV? Roman has achieved something monumental, and here you are doing nothing useful!"
I lowered my head instinctively, my cheeks burning with shame. "I… I'm sorry, I just wanted to see…"
"You wanted to what?" she snapped, waving her hand dismissively at me as if I were a servant. "Be useless, I see."
"Why do you even bother with her, Mother? She is useless," Cassandra added, scoffing as she looked me up and down with disgust. "For once, be useful and go prepare the table for the family!" she yelled.
I bowed slightly, my eyes stinging. I picked up the spoon from the floor, murmured another apology, and began retreating toward the kitchen. But the insults didn't stop.
Phoebe continued loudly, "Honestly, I don't know why she is my daughter-in-law. She is completely useless. Look at Isabella helping this family ever since I knew her. I wonder why Roman is still keeping her here."
"He should get rid of her," Cassandra's voice added, trailing after me.
I heaved a deep sigh and swallowed the thick lump in my throat as I reached the kitchen.
My hand tightened around the spoon. I tried to push the pain down. Once Roman returned, I was going to confront him. I would ask him why he had suddenly erased my name from our success.
When I finished setting the table, I called the family to dinner. I headed back to the kitchen to eat alone; Phoebe had forbidden me from eating at the main table months ago.
Shortly after, I heard her voice shout excitedly. "Oh, welcome home, my dear son!"
I rushed out immediately, and the familiar, sharp scent of Roman's expensive cologne filled my nostrils as I reached the dining hall.
Phoebe was hugging Roman tightly. I remained in the corner, watching them. For a brief moment, Roman's stormy grey eyes met mine. I expected a smile, a secret look of shared victory—but there was nothing. Only a stony, calculating gaze that lacked any warmth.
"Vivienne! Take Roman's bag and his suit! Why are you just standing there?" my mother-in-law yelled at me. "He just finished an interview!"
I moved forward at once, my hands reaching for his things. But as I passed, Cassandra deliberately stuck her leg out. My foot caught it, and I fell forward, sprawling across the hard marble floor.
The room erupted in mocking laughter from Cassandra and my brother-in-law, Adrian.
"Pathetic," Adrian called out, pointing at me while I was on the ground. "She can't even move without falling like an idiot."
"That's why she is nicknamed 'Vivienne the Useless' in the community," Cassandra laughed, her tongue clicking against her teeth.
"That's enough, Cassandra," Roman's deep voice vibrated, though his tone was flat.
I bit my tongue, tasting the metallic tang of blood from where I had bitten it. I scrambled to my feet, my hands shaking as I clutched Roman's bag and suit. I forced my legs to carry me toward our room, each step heavy with the weight of my humiliation.
When I reached the room, I set the bag down and hung the suit in his closet.
Suddenly, Roman appeared behind me. He closed the door, the click of the lock causing my heart to skip a beat in fear. I didn't know how to react. There was a pause, then he walked up and wrapped his arms around my waist.
"I expected that you would congratulate me. You're not even going to do that?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing against my ear. "Not even a hug?"
I stiffened, trying not to tremble under his touch. I couldn't remember the last time he had held me. "I…" I stuttered. "You… I watched the interview. You didn't even mention my name."
He let out a slow, quiet laugh that made my chest tighten. "You?" he said, pulling away and turning me around to face him. "What are you saying, Vivienne? Is that why you didn't congratulate me? Because you're mad I didn't mention your name?"
He gripped my shoulders. "Have you forgotten that no one knows you? You are a nobody, Vivienne. Even if I didn't mention you on TV, you should already know that I am grateful for all you do. You are my wife, remember?"
"So I don't deserve any praise? We worked on that project together for years, Roman, and I—"
Roman grabbed my hands tightly and scoffed. "Entitled," he said. "That's what you are. You think you deserve the credit? Do you think you matter more than I allow?"
I took a deep breath, refusing to bow. "No, I think I deserve to be acknowledged. I am not entitled because I did help you," I said, pushing his hands away. "You could have mentioned me and—"
"Shut up!" he shouted, his face darkening. "Don't act like you are something special. Yes, you helped me, but remember who has put food on your table for years. You've been taking advantage of this family for years, and you should be grateful. Without me, you would have died two years ago when your kidney failed you. That's all you need to remember. I don't understand why you are suddenly mad about what happened today."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he brushed past me, yanking his bag away from my hand. "There's going to be a celebration party tomorrow," he said over his shoulder. "Be on your best behavior."
"I… but…" I started.
"I don't care," he interrupted. "Whatever is going on with you is none of my concern." He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door swinging slightly.
I stood there, my mind spinning.
Tomorrow was supposed to be our day. Our third wedding anniversary. But Roman had forgotten about that, bringing up the past to remind me that he had "saved" me—using my own life as a weapon to keep me silent.