My hands and feet were so numb with cold that I lost all sensation, yet Kevin didn't offer a word of apology or explanation upon seeing me. Instead, he questioned, "Why did it take you so long to get back?"
Hurt and frustration swelled up, but Kevin waved me off impatiently and turned to enter Wendy's room. That night, Kevin didn't return to our room.
I listened to the sounds of their laughter next door all night. The sounds echoed endlessly as noise came from the hallway outside my room.
Kevin and Wendy had returned. I watched as Wendy walked in, laden with bags and she said, "Amy, look, Kevin bought me this new limited-edition bag. And this dress, handmade in Italy, one of a kind."
Swallowing my bitterness, I turned away, no longer looking at her.
"Amy, did you really make us a midnight snack?" Wendy's shrill voice sounded exaggerated as she leaned over, then wrinkled her nose and covered her mouth, saying, "Amy, don't you know I'm allergic to eggs?"
Watching the steaming egg and cheese pasta in the pot, a fresh wave of bitterness welled up in my eyes.
Before I could turn around, Kevin was already berating me, "Amy, what kind of sister-in-law are you? Are you trying to poison Wendy?"
He grabbed a nearby bottle and threw it at me. The bottle shattered on impact and sharp fragments flew, leaving several small but glaring cuts on my calf.
With a "clank," I set down the spoon in my hand, turning to face the two of them. Wendy leaned into Kevin's arm, eyes red, her mouth curling into a smile that seemed both boastful and taunting.
Claiming to be allergic was one of Wendy's usual tactics and excuses. I had no idea what she was actually allergic to, only that she'd announce an allergy at any moment, for any reason.
Constantly looking for ways to make things difficult for me, she'd watch gleefully as Kevin lashed out in anger. And each time, Kevin would fall for it like a fool. This time was no different.
Looking at the painful scene before me, I felt a hollow emptiness in my chest, as if a cold wind was blowing through a gaping void.
But this time, I didn't feel as heartbroken as before. I turned, picked up the pot and dumped the cooked egg and cheese pasta into the trash right in front of them.
"If you're allergic, then stay hungry!" I tossed the pot into the sink with a loud clang.