Renata let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes as if dealing with an unruly, irrational child in public. “You are completely misunderstanding my gift announcement, Naomi. You always look for slights where none exist. I wanted to make Bianca feel exceptionally special today, and you should know better than to make this about yourself.”
Hearing those words—you always look for slights where none exist—unlocked a buried vault of memories inside my mind. I suddenly thought about the three agonizing weeks I had spent in the hospital two years earlier, recovering from a severe infection following a dangerous health scare, during which Renata had not visited me once. At the time, she had claimed she was overwhelmed with her charity board duties, and I had dutifully excused her, convincing myself that she was simply busy. Standing by that gift table under the glaring lights, the illusion shattered completely. I could no longer persuade myself that my mother simply forgot how to show up for me. She didn’t forget. She actively chose not to.
My gaze dropped to the shiny silver keys still clutched in Bianca’s hand. Without really thinking about the physical consequence, I reached out my hand toward the keys, intending to flick them off her palm or push them down onto the table so we could talk without my sister clinging to them like a shield.
Before my fingertips could even brush the metal, Renata’s hand shot out with astonishing speed. She slapped my hand away and pulled Bianca backward.
“Don’t you dare!” Renata hissed, her voice vibrating with cold fury. “Those are for your sister. Leave them alone!”
“I know what they are!” I cried out, my voice finally breaking past my control, carrying much farther across the hall than I had intended. “I’m asking why you needed to humiliate me publicly just to hand them to her! What did I ever do to deserve this level of cruelty from you, Mom?”
Du coin de l’œil, j’ai vu Théo se lever complètement de notre table, son visage se décolorant tandis qu’il traversait la pièce à grands pas vers nous.
Le visage de Renata se tordit sous l’effet d’une rage absolue. Le masque de la matriarche gracieuse et parfaite se brisa complètement, révélant la narcissique amère et manipulatrice qui se cachait derrière. Sans hésiter, elle redressa les épaules et me plaqua violemment les deux mains sur les miennes.
« Arrêtez ce théâtre pathétique immédiatement ! » gronda-t-elle en me repoussant avec une force surprenante et brutale.
Le mouvement fut si soudain, si violent et si irréfléchi, que mon corps, alourdi par la grossesse, n’eut aucun point d’appui. Je trébuchai en arrière, mes talons s’emmêlant dans le bord de la nappe qui recouvrait la lourde table en acajou où étaient déposés les cadeaux.
Mon bas-ventre a heurté violemment le coin pointu et dur en bois de la table.
Une douleur aiguë, brûlante et insoutenable me transperça l’estomac, me coupant le souffle instantanément. Mes mains s’agrippèrent frénétiquement à la lourde nappe de velours pour ne pas tomber, entraînant avec elles une cascade de boîtes décoratives, de sacs cadeaux et de rubans qui s’écrasèrent à mes pieds dans un amas chaotique.
J’ai haleté, ma vision se brouillant sur les bords tandis que je me pliais en deux, une main appuyant instinctivement et fortement contre le bas de mon ventre.
