I Was Trapped In An Elevator On My Birthday, But No One Cared Chapter 08

I Was Trapped In An Elevator On My Birthday, But No One Cared Chapter 08

I looked at him, and it just felt bitterly ironic.

Even now, he still thought I needed to learn.

I shook my head. “Julian, I don’t need you to teach me how to be pretty. I don’t need you to buy me dresses. I

don’t even need you to put me first. I just don’t want you anymore.”

His eyes went completely red. “Do you really not love me at all?”

“That’s right. I don’t.”

I stepped around him and kept walking.

His strangled voice came from behind me. “Mira, what if I wait for you?”

I didn’t look back. “Don’t. I’m not coming back.”

Two weeks later, my parents showed up in Sunnyside.

I got off work and saw them standing outside the company entrance. My dad’s hands were full of shopping

bags. My mom was clutching a cake box.

When they spotted me, their eyes lit up. “Mira.”

My mom’s voice was so soft it was like she was afraid I’d bolt.

I stopped a few steps away. “Why are you here?”

My dad gave an awkward laugh. “We came to see you. We were worried about you all alone out here.”

I almost laughed out loud. I’d been gone over a month, and now they were suddenly worried.

My mom held out the cake box. “I bought this for you. It’s chocolate. I asked the girl at the bakery, and she

said girls like this flavor.”

I glanced down. The little card on the box read: [Happy Birthday Mira.]

But my birthday had long since passed. I didn’t take it. “It’s too late.”

My mom’s eyes instantly welled up. “I know it’s too late. I was wrong before. I never should’ve spent all those

years comparing you to Serena. And I never, ever should’ve hit you that night.”

She reached out like she wanted to touch my face.

I stepped back. Her hand froze in midair.

I stepped back. Her hand froze in midair.

Just like so many years ago when I’d reached out to hold her hand, and she’d sidestepped me without even

noticing.

My dad extended the bags. “There are some clothes in here. Daddy didn’t know what you like, so I got a little

of everything. And take this card. We didn’t pay enough attention to you before. We won’t be like that

anymore.”

I stared at those bags.

Once, I had wanted that so badly. I wanted my mom to pick out a dress for me. I wanted my dad to buy me a

cake that was mine. I wanted them to see me, just once, in a crowd.

But people are strange. The things you don’t get when you’re small, by the time someone finally hands them

to you-you don’t want them anymore.

I said, “No, thanks.”

My mom’s tears spilled over. “Mira, do you still blame Mommy?”

I didn’t deny it. “I did.”

She rushed to ask, “And now?”

I looked at her. “Now I don’t anymore.”

A spark of hope lit in her eyes.

Then I added, “Because I don’t think of you as family now.”