I crashed on the couch all night.
The doorbell woke me early the next morning.
I opened it to find my mom.

She stormed past me, hurling her purse onto the sofa,
"Sophie! What is wrong with you?"
"Liam was probably just meeting a client! He didn't actually do anything! And you blow up the group chat calling off the wedding?!"
"The invitations of your wedding are already out! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me?!"
I rubbed my throbbing temples, feeling drained,
"Mom, did you even watch the video?"

"He was making out with another woman..."
Mom wouldn't budge,
"Don't give me that! Liam runs a huge company! He has pressures you don't understand!"
"You sit around enjoying the good life, never cutting him any slack! Treating marriage like a game, calling it off over nothing!"

"You're 28! Where do you think you're going to find another guy like Liam?!"
Hearing all these words from my mom didn’t shock me. Her tolerance for men’s crap knew no bounds.
"Mom, if you like Liam so much, why don't you adopt him?"
She was furious, her hand flying up to slap me.
My stomach heaved again. I shoved her aside and stumbled back to the bathroom to vomit.
Mom yelled about me not taking care of myself – junk food, all-nighters.
Then she circled right back to Liam,
"A guy like that? Handsome, loaded? He dumps you and snaps up some young, gorgeous thing tomorrow! You're the one who loses!"
Her voice carried easily from the kitchen to the bathroom.
The image of that young, pretty girl surfaced again.
The delayed shock hit me like a wall, suffocating me.
"And look at this! You can't even clean the kitchen properly! Why are there drops of blood on the floor?!"
"No wonder Liam might want out – I would too!"
I kicked the bathroom door shut.
I wrapped my arms around my knees, buried my face, and cried silently.