They Wrapped Me Like A Mummy To Make Her Smile Chapter 04

They Wrapped Me Like A Mummy To Make Her Smile Chapter 04

At dinner, Mom noticed something was off.

“Emma, did something happen at school?” she asked, placing food on my plate, her eyes full of concern.

I shook my head. “No.”

My voice caught slightly, so I lowered my head and focused on my food to hide it.

“Then why aren’t you eating? And your eyes look swollen.”

She set her fork down and looked at me carefully.

“Did you and Ryan have a fight?”

Ryan.

Hearing his name felt like a needle sliding into my chest.

“I’ve just been tired from studying,” I lied.

I didn’t want her to worry. I didn’t want to explain something that humiliating.

Dad frowned. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Your health matters more.”

“It’s the weekend tomorrow. Maybe Ryan can take you out somewhere. Relax a little.”

He added casually, “His mom was saying it’s been a while since you two hung out.”

Ryan.

Again.

In everyone’s eyes, we were inseparable.

Childhood best friends. Same neighborhood. Same social circle.

Our families had long assumed we’d end up together.

Even I had believed it once.

Until Chloe transferred in.

Her father was the city’s newest billionaire tech investor.

She was beautiful. Smart. Talented.

Played piano. Danced ballet. Spoke in that soft, effortless voice that made people lean in.

From her first day, she was the center of attention.

The boys orbited her.

The girls either admired her or envied her.

Ryan was hooked instantly.

Not just interested—completely captivated.

After that, she was all he saw.

He used to rely on me to save him a seat in class.

Now he showed up before sunrise to save one for her.

She once casually mentioned craving cronuts from a bakery across town.

He drove all the way there before school just to surprise her.

To make her smile, he would do anything.

Anything.

Including turning me into a joke.

“I’m done,” I said quietly.

I put my fork down and went to my room before I completely fell apart.

The moment the door shut behind me, the tears came.

Silent at first.

Then unstoppable.

I covered my mouth to keep from making a sound.

I didn’t want my parents to hear.

I opened my laptop and started looking up transfer procedures.

I needed to leave.

Leave this suffocating place.

Leave Ryan.

Leave all the whispers, the laughter, the humiliation.

There was a private prep school in Silverwood. Aunt Margaret, my father’s younger sister, taught there.

She had asked before if I wanted to transfer.

I’d said no.

I didn’t want to leave home.

I didn’t want to leave Ryan.

Now the irony made me laugh bitterly.

The person I couldn’t bear to leave had hurt me without hesitation.

My phone started ringing.

Ryan.

I declined the call.

He called again.

Declined.

Again.

After more attempts than I bothered counting, messages started coming through.

Ryan:

[Stop being dramatic.]

[I’ll take you to the amusement park tomorrow, okay?]

[You’ve always wanted to go.]

[Fine, I messed up. Happy?]

[Emma, don’t be mad.]

[I bought your favorite strawberry cheesecake.]

[Want me to bring it over?]

I didn’t respond.

Strawberry cheesecake?

Did he really think dessert erased everything?

More messages popped up.

[Emma, don’t push it.]

[It was just a joke. Why are you being so sensitive?]

[Chloe already apologized to you.]

[What else do you want?]

[If you keep ignoring me, I’m done trying.]

[Emma. You’ll regret it.]

I let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

When apologies didn’t work, he switched to threats.

That was Ryan.

Everything revolved around him.

He believed the world adjusted itself to his moods.

I blocked him.

And just like that, the silence felt almost peaceful.

Outside my window, the moon was full.

When we were kids, we used to sit on the rooftop and stare at it.

He once said, “Emma, doesn’t the moon look like a giant cookie?”

I told him it looked like porcelain.

He laughed. “I’m hungry. Everything looks like food.”

So I gave him the candy I had in my pocket.

Back then, everything had felt simple.

Bright.

Safe.

But that world was gone.