Five Years, A Forgotten Name

mber I was allergic to shrimp. It glistened in my pasta, a cruel reminder of how little of me registered in his mind, especial

f her grandmother's, a story he'd told me a hundred times. "Dallas, this reminded me of you," he said, his voice soft

ht." He turned to me, a forced smile pleading for me to play along. But I was done. "It's over, Braylon," I whispered, "And my

e is... it's always been..." He trailed off, genuinely lost. A bitter taste filled my mouth

mbled, breaking my ankle. As I lay there, alone and injured, I sobbed, "Why did I stay? Why did I waste five years on h

pte

ic to shrimp. It was right there, glistening pink in my pasta, a cruel reminder of how little of me truly registered in his mind. I looked at the plate, then at Braylon, the

t?" Braylon' s voice cut thr

rm, now held a flicker of detached concern. He hadn't

y voice flat. "You

o sorry. I completely forgot. Let me get you something else. Chef, a

roblem, the one festering inside me, he passed over every single time. A new plate would arrive,

elow us, a glittering tapestry I barely noticed. Braylon, as always, was a magnet. The

t for Dallas Huff. She was young, blonde, and beautiful, draped i

It was a replica of one her grandmother used

me of you," he said, hi

wels. "Braylon, you always remember the swe

s a familiar gesture, one that made my jaw clench. The way she loo

on her lips. A triumphant, venomous gleam. Sh

t month, Braylon," she purred. "Remember? You

we can go, but Eliza will be coming with us

e on his face. "Right, sweetie? Our

o smooth over the awkwardness. But I was done. Don

a whisper, yet it cut through the festive nois

ed. The sudden silence was deafening, crushing. Br

are you talking about? Your name is... it's a

za." Every time, he' d promise to remember. Every time, he' d forget. But he could recall Dallas' s kindergarten teacher' s name, her favorite shade of blu

h, Braylon, darling. She's just being dramatic. Y

of shallow, wealthy sociali

lled her 'Brenda' at the charity gal

alking encyclopedia of useless fa

licker of warmth dying out. Braylon saw my face then, truly saw it. The mo

, reaching for me. "I don't know what's

dry. There was no anger left, just an aching emptines

he lump in my throat. "Just take me

ost desperate. "Of cour

place isn't far. Can you drop me off? It's on your way, right?

t me, a silent qu

away, past them, towards the exit. Let the