I don't remember how I made it back to my room.
All I could do was wrap my arms around myself, bury my face between my knees, and cry until there was nothing left.
That afternoon, Stella posted photos in the family group chat—snapshots of her and Rhys out together, sightseeing.
Every image dripped with easy, tender closeness.
My mother enlarged them one by one, studying each photo, then going back to study it again.
A faint smile curled at the corner of her mouth—so small it was almost invisible.
When she caught me watching, she let out a sharp scoff.
"Showing off. All smiles today—tomorrow she'll be crying somewhere, just you wait."
"These rich boys love stringing girls along. If you left it up to him to register the marriage, he'd drag his feet forever."
As she spoke, my mother fired off a message in the family group chat.
[Stella and Rhys are so in love—when are they going to make it official?]
Aunt Grace's reply popped up almost immediately.
[No rush. Young people should focus on their education first. I fully support them establishing their careers before settling down.]