The raising of glasses and forced happiness hung heavy in the air. My parents, who love perfection, seem to find every imperfect thing acceptable tonight.  Across from me, is Marcus, my boyfriend of two years, shaking in his seat. His normal unworried smile was replaced by an anxious tremble and his eyes shifted between me and my annoyingly perfect step-sister. 

Aurora, the ever-cheerful, glowed brighter than usual. Her always-messy blonde hair looked perfect. Her smile, which was never real to me, reached her eyes tonight. 

My stomach stirred with fear as my parents faked their laughter. The air filled with unsaid words, as if a secret was about to burst. I took another look at my boyfriend, my heart beating in my chest. Is that remorse I see in his hazel eyes? 

"So, Gem," my father said a little too loud. 

"Tell us about your dancing project," 

"It's going well," I murmured

"We are working on a project about…" my voice went off, I felt nauseous. I looked back at Marcus as he confirmed my fear. 

"About what?" Aurora asked sweetly. 

"Betrayal," I suddenly said before I could stop myself. The word stood thick in the air, destroying every fake happiness. My parents' smile disappeared as it was replaced with confusion and anger. 

"Honey, what are you talking about?" Mom asked quietly, trying to sound calm. 

Tears filled my eyes, I couldn't say a word. I looked at Marcus, waiting for him to explain, to deny it but his head was down, his jaw tightened. My hand went up my head as the room spun, my world closing up on me. 

"Gemma," Aurora murmured, touching me with her perfectly manicured hands. 

"Are you okay?" she asked

Her touch sent a shiver down my spine. I pulled back, my face filled with disgust. 

"Don't touch me," I whispered, my voice filled with tears and anger. 

A sob escaped my lips as it rang through the silence. My parents looked at each other, fear written all over their faces, their laughter gone. 

"What is going on here?" Dad demanded. 

"I think you know exactly what is going on here, Dad." I fired back as my voice came out stable despite the fear. 

Everyone looked at Marcus as he finally looked up but there was no sign of remorse. It was replaced by something cold and calculating. 

"Gemma, it's not the way you see it," he said smoothly. 

I was so pissed with his lies, it was like a slap in my face. Anger was replaced with anxiety. I banged my napkin on the table, breaking the silence. 

"Don't you dare lie to me," I said as I hissed. My voice filled with anger and pain. 

"Don't you even dare make me look like a mad person."

Before anyone could say anything, I stood up moving my chair back with a screech, my eyes blurred with tears, but I had to force them back. 

"This dinner is over." I declared, my voice coming out strong. For a minute, I looked at Marcus, Two years wasted. Tears threatened to fall, I wasn't going to let them see me cry, I refused to give them that satisfaction, I thought pulling myself together. 

"And as for you, Marcus," I pointed at him, my finger shaking. 

"We are so done," I said, letting out a laugh.

Ignoring the looks and murmur, I took to my heels. Tears ran down my face now, desperate and refusing to stop. My heart ached so badly as I struggled to breathe. I ran past the surprised people, the sound of my shoe was the only thing I could hear in my crumbled world. 

Stepping outside, the cool night was like a humiliation after the choking air in the restaurant. Tears fell down my cheek, blurring my vision. My breath came out rough, each one a tiny riot against the heavy weight of betrayal. 

I staggered down the sidewalk, my heels making a tingling worked-up sound against the ground. The world around me seemed twisted, the sound of traffic and laughter joined together into a dull sound. Where was I going? It didn't matter. What I wanted was to put some space between me and at horrible dinner as much as possible. 

After what felt like an eternity, my legs gave up as I sat down on a park bench. The city light shined above, mocking my shattered world. I pulled my knees to my chest as I wrapped my arm around them, desperately wanting to pull myself together. 

A sob escaped my lips, raw and full of pain, tears streaming down my face. Images rushing back behind my closed eyelid, Marcus' nervous trembling, Aurora's disgusting sweetness, the cold look in his eyes when I had caught them. It was like a bad scene from a movie, I was forced to relive the painful details. 

The sound of approaching footsteps scared me. I looked up, blinking back tears. A man stood a few feet away, his face filled with concern. He wasn't young, and his hair was gray, but his eyes held a kindness, the type that went through the fog of my anger. 

"Are you alright, Miss?" he asked gently, his voice a comfort to my raw emotions. 

I thought about lying, saying everything was fine but the vulnerability in his eyes mirrored my pain, making me weak. I took a deep breath, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. 

"No," I whispered, my voice thick with emotions. 

"No, I'm not fine," I said, tears threatening to spill. 

The man sat down at the other end of the bench, giving me space but not leaving me. He didn't push, didn't ask for details, he just sat there, a silent hold in the storm of my emotions. 

After some time, the sobs reduced, leaving behind a dull ache in my chest. I looked at the man whose presence was a source of unexpected comfort. 

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice rough. 

"For not asking," I said. 

He smiled, a gentle curve of his lips

"Sometimes," he said, his voice deep but comforting

"All someone needs is a quiet witness," he replied

We sat in comfortable silence for a while. The city light seemed less mocking now, a stage in my strength. Slowly, a tinge of determination rose inside me. 

I wouldn't let this break me. I wouldn't let Marcus and Aurora take my joy away. They were just a chapter in my story, not the full book. I will write my own ending, one filled with strength and self-love 

"I have to go," I said, finally standing up. 

The man nodded in understanding, 

"Go on, then," he said

"Write your own story." 

With a newfound hope, I walked away from the park bench. The world still looked a bit blurry, but the colors were brighter, and the air clearer. I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs with air and the promise of a new beginning. 

Right now, I wasn't sure what the future holds, but I know one thing for sure. I was facing it head-on, and I wasn't facing it alone.