5
Holding the trophy, Qiana showed no joy for my win, no intention of handing it over. Instead, she looked pitifully at me.
“Lanie, the director asked me to give you this. It’s a prestigious award. You’re so amazing.”
She paused, then continued with a hesitant voice,
“I was hoping… I’ve never won an award like this before. Could I borrow it for a few days?”
Borrow it?
That was the most absurd request I’d ever heard.
I frowned, forcing a smile.
“If
you know it’s my trophy, then don’t ask. If you want one, enter the competition yourself.”
I reached for the trophy.
My cold tone visibly upset Qiana.
Her face paled, adopting a woe–is–me expression.
“Lanie, why are you being so mean? I’m not stealing it; I just want to keep it at home for motivation.”
As I reached for it, Qiana clutched the trophy tighter, refusing to let go.
In the struggle, the crystal trophy crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.
Ethan and Mason walked in, witnessing the scene.
They rushed over.“Qiana!”
They surrounded her, their faces etched with concern, carefully checking for injuries. Ethan lifted Qiana’s pant leg, then saw the cut on her leg, a sharp intake of breath escaping his lips.
He looked extremely distressed.
“I’ll take you to the hospital!”
Ignoring Qiana’s protests, he practically carried her away.
Seeing the shattered glass, Mason’s face darkened.
“Lanie, you have everything. Why would you fight with Qiana over something like this?”
Fight?
I almost laughed.
“It’s my trophy! Three months of hard work. My achievement. She’s acting all pitiful, hugging it tightly. And I’m the one fighting?”
My voice trembled with anger, pointing to the shards on the floor.
“And now she’s broken it. I expect an apology from Qiana.”
I expected that to settle the matter, but Mason was even ångrier.
His voice rose several octaves.
“I thought it was something important. It’s just a trophy! You can get another one. How does that compare to Qiana? You hurt her. She’s not the one who should apologize, you should apologize to her!”
Without waiting for my response, he rushed after Ethan and Qiana.
Staring at the mess, I was stunned.
Mason’s words echoed in my mind.
Me apologizing to *Qiana*?
The victim apologizing to the perpetrator?
*Mason, you’re unbelievable!*
A sharp pain shot through my leg.
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I realized I’d suffered a long, deep gash, far worse than Qiana’s.
Gritting my teeth, I cleaned up the glass and tended to my wound.
Later that evening, Mom texted me, sending photos of several wedding dresses.
I looked them over and called her.
After a few pleasantries, she noticed the exhaustion in my voice.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
The events of the day threatened to overwhelm me, but I didn’t say anything, changing the subject.
“Mom, I should be able to finish things here in a week. How’s the wedding planning coming along?”
Ethan and Mason came home.
Hearing my last words, they asked in unison:
“Wedding? What wedding?”
