Laughter and well-wishes filled the air, echoing like sounds from a world Raeya no longer belonged to.
"Congratulations, Raeya! You have a mom again now!" "How wonderful! Your family is whole again!" "Celene will be an amazing mother to you!"
Raeya smiled. She responded to each greeting with a polite nod and a small smile that barely touched her eyes.
"Thank you," she said over and over. "I'm very happy today."
But inside, everything was collapsing.
How can this be called happiness? How can everyone smile while I'm losing something again?
She looked toward the altar, where her father now stood beside Celene. The two looked radiant. Arvind held Celene's hand lovingly, and Celene smiled at him with a victorious glow. The guests clapped and cheered as they were officially declared husband and wife.
Raeya clapped along. She smiled.
But that smile was only a mask.
This isn't a celebration. It's a funeral.
She stared straight at them, her hands clenched behind her dress. Even this pretty gown felt like a chain. Everything… the party, the laughter, the music, the food… all of it felt like a betrayal to her mother's memory.
Then she was called over to a special corner for children. There was a small tent decorated like a fairytale cottage, low tables with colorful sweets and cakes. Several kids from the neighborhood and Celene's family were there.
Raeya had just taken a seat, trying to enjoy a small pastry, when a girl her age approached.
The girl wore a bright pink dress, her hair in two high pigtails like a bunny. Her gaze wasn't friendly.
"Raeya," she said with a mocking smile, "wow… you've got a new mom now. So no more sad faces, okay?"
Raeya blinked, then smiled… with all the strength she had left.
"Yeah… thank you for the kind words. I'm happy… I have a mom now."
Her eyes blinked slowly. Her voice sounded cheerful, but only to those who weren't really listening.
The girl frowned, disappointed she didn't get a reaction, and walked away to join her friends.
Raeya took a deep breath. Her chest felt tight.
"I want to be alone," she whispered. She rose from her seat and slowly walked through the empty hallway, up the stairs, to a room where she could lock the door.
Once it was shut and the key turned… everything she'd been holding back shattered.
She broke into silent sobs. She buried herself in the soft bed, as if the blankets wept with her.
"Mom… why are they all so happy?" "Why am I the only one who feels like she's losing something?"
Tears streamed down, soaking the pillowcase.
Suddenly, there was a gentle knock.
"Raeya, can we come in?" Layla's voice called softly.
"Yes, Raeya. It's Vira… we just want to talk."
Raeya quickly wiped her face. She stood, glanced in the mirror, and forced the same smile she'd worn all day. Then opened the door.
"What is it?" she asked lightly, as if nothing had happened.
Layla and Vira stared at her for a long moment, then took her little hands and led her back inside.
Once the door closed, Vira looked at her seriously.
"Are you happy, Raeya?" she asked gently. "Truly happy?"
Raeya laughed lightly. "Of course. Who wouldn't be happy to have a mom again?" she said with a wide smile.
But the smile was too perfect. Too stiff.
Layla stepped closer, holding her hand tighter.
"Raeya… is that really how you feel?" "You can be honest with us…"
Raeya's eyes began to tremble. Her smile slowly faded. Her lips quivered—then a single tear fell, followed by many more. In seconds, her face was soaked with tears she could no longer hold back.
"I… I'm not happy…" she sobbed. "I hate today… I hate everything they call 'happiness'…"
Layla and Vira pulled her into a tight hug.
"Raeya… we know. We see it. You're not alone."
"Cry all you want. We're here. We're not going anywhere."
And in their warm embrace, Raeya finally cried her heart out—for every wound she couldn't scream in the middle of a celebration that was never hers.
»»——⍟——««
Days after the wedding changed everything.
The house that once felt warm, even if now unfamiliar, had truly become a place Raeya wanted to run away from.
Celene was officially living with them now.
And from that moment on, everything shifted.
Not just the atmosphere of the house, but the way her father behaved.
"Raeya," Arvind said one morning while adjusting his tie in front of the mirror.
"From now on, I expect you to behave. Celene is part of our family now. She's your mother. You need to learn to accept that."
Raeya simply stared out the window.
No reaction. No words. Only silence.
But inside her heart, that silence wasn't calm.
It was the kind of silence born from a wound too deep to speak of.
Mother?
How dare you ask me to call that woman 'mother'?
She... she's the reason for all of this...
Raeya gripped the sleeve of her shirt tightly. But she didn't argue.
She knew speaking up would only make things worse.
So she endured—in the coldness of silence.
☆.｡.:* .｡.:*☆
That evening.
The dining room looked elegant under the soft light of the chandelier above the table. Lavish dishes were laid out: warm cream soup, roasted chicken in cheese sauce, fresh salad, and more.
Three chairs were occupied by people who were supposed to be "family."
Celene sat beside Arvind.
They looked… affectionate. Too affectionate.
"Darling, have you tried the soup yet?" Celene asked sweetly, holding a spoon up to his lips.
Arvind chuckled softly, gently pushing her hand away before tasting it himself.
"It's delicious. Your hands really are magical," he said, then kissed the back of her hand tenderly.
Raeya lowered her head, eyes locked on her plate.
She stabbed her fork into the roasted chicken repeatedly, as if that could drown the nausea rising in her throat.
The scene before her was disgusting.
Celene's laugh rang out, high and shrill.
"You're always so sweet, love. I'm glad my cooking suits your taste."
"Not just your cooking," Arvind said with a smile. "Your presence brings warmth into this house."
Warmth? This house has never been colder than it is now.
Your presence didn't bring warmth. It killed everything that was left of this home.
Raeya held her breath, silent still.
She didn't speak. Didn't look at them.
She just kept stabbing the chicken like it could somehow understand the hatred she felt.
Eventually, Celene turned to Raeya with her usual fake smile.
"Raeya, sweetheart, are you alright? Is the food not to your liking?"
Raeya lifted her head slightly, her eyes empty. She shook her head.
Celene giggled softly.
"There's no need to be shy, Raeya. If you don't like it, Mommy can ask the maid to prepare something else."
Mother?
Don't you dare call yourself that in front of me.
That word is too sacred to come from your mouth.
With a tensed expression, Raeya answered quietly,
"No. I like the food."
Her voice was flat. Her face clearly showed otherwise.
But Celene just kept smiling like everything was perfectly fine.
Arvind finally spoke, his eyes narrowing at his daughter.
"Raeya! Don't act like that toward your mother! She's trying so hard to get close to you!"
That was enough to ignite Raeya's buried rage.
She looked at her father, her wounds wide open.
"I will never call her mother!" she screamed.
"No matter what you say, she's not my mom!"
Her voice echoed through the dining room, slicing through the fake perfection like glass shattering.
Her chair screeched as she pushed it back and walked off without a glance.
"Raeya!" Arvind called, about to get up—but Celene gently held his hand.
"It's okay, darling," she said softly, her voice laced with fake concern.
"She just hasn't accepted me yet. She needs time. Don't be angry, alright?"
She caressed his shoulder and rested her head against him, her tone sweet and soothing.
Arvind sighed, then gave a small smile and sat back down.
They continued dinner with their romantic little atmosphere, undisturbed.
Meanwhile, Raeya locked herself in her room.
She sat at the edge of her bed, her face hidden between her knees, arms wrapped tightly around them.
And then the tears came—again.
There was no home here.
No mother. No family.
Only lies, desperately pretending to be love.
And behind the closed door, the seemingly perfect world continued to spin—
utterly unaware of the broken heart quietly falling apart inside.