“Let’s see if Wyatt still loves you with that face,” my mother said, laughing in a way I’ll never forget.
My Father S:mash:ed a Brick Into My Face After My Fiancé Refused to Leave Me for My Sister, and My Mother Just Laughed. “Let’s See If He Still Loves You Now.” I Didn’t Scream. At the Hospital, I Asked Them to Preserve the Evidence, Never Imagining That Six Witnesses and an Old Will Would Destroy Them.
PART 1
“Let’s see if Wyatt still loves you with that face,” my mother said, laughing in a way I’ll never forget.
The brick h:it me before I even saw my father’s arm swing.
One second earlier, I had been standing on the cracked sidewalk outside my parents’ house in the neighborhood where I grew up in Columbus, wearing the light blue dress I’d bought to announce our wedding date during a family dinner.
The next second, everything turned white.
It wasn’t a loud sound.
It was worse.
A dull, sickening crack, like something breaking deep inside.
I felt warmth running down my left eyebrow, across my cheek, and over my lips.
My legs gave out.
My fiancé, Wyatt Campbell, caught me before my face hi:t the porch steps.
“Sadie, look at me. Stay with me! Sadie!”
I tried to open my left eye.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
With my right eye, I saw my mother, Brenda, standing beside the old porch swing.
She wasn’t scared.
She didn’t run toward me.
She didn’t call for an ambulance.
She was laughing.
My father, Gregory Davis, dropped the broken half of the brick onto the grass.
“I war:ned you,” he muttered calmly, as if he had just shut a door instead of s:mash:ing his daughter’s face.
Wyatt stared at him in disbelief.
“What have you done?”
No one answered.
Then my younger sister, Melanie, stepped out of the front door.
She wore an expensive dress, freshly manicured nails, and an irritated expression, as though my bl00d had ruined dinner.
“I told you she wouldn’t move,” she said, folding her arms.
My mother sighed.
“We tried talking to her nicely.”
Wyatt gently leaned me against one of the porch columns before standing up.
“You’re all sick.”
My father smiled and pointed at Melanie.
“No. You’re just engaged to the wrong daughter.”
The ringing in my head was unbearable, but those words hurt even more than the brick.
“What?” Wyatt asked.
“Melanie should have been the one you chose,” my mother said. “Sadie is selfish. She always has been.”
Melanie looked down at me lying on the ground.
“And you still chose her.”
Wyatt pulled out his phone to call 911, but my father ki:cke:d it out of his hand. The screen shattered against the front steps.
“No one’s calling anybody.”
Wyatt sh0ved him. Even though my father was already in his sixties, he lunged at Wyatt like a cornered animal.
They crashed into the rose bushes. Neither my mother nor Melanie screamed. They just watched, as though everything had been planned.
That’s when I realized something that chilled me even more than the bl00d running down my face.
This wasn’t a sudden outburst. This wasn’t a moment of madness.
Ever since Wyatt sold his construction company and became a millionaire, my family had started surrounding him.
First came the family dinners. Then the compliments. Then Melanie started showing up “by coincidence” at his gym, his office, his favorite coffee shop, even outside our apartment.
He rejected her every time. He blocked her everywhere.
She told my parents I was manipulating him.
“You’re marrying Melanie,” my father growled as he struggled with Wyatt, “or you’re no longer part of this family.”
“I love Sadie.”
“You’ll get over it,” Melanie said.
A utility truck pulled up in front of the house. The electrician got out, saw my face, and immediately pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling an ambulance!”
My father stepped toward him, but the man pointed a finger at him.
“Take one more step, and I’ll tell the dispatcher you’re att:acking me too.”
My father stopped. The sirens arrived a few minutes later.
As the paramedics loaded me into the ambulance, I looked one last time at the living room window. Behind the curtain stood an elderly man I’d never seen before.
His trembling hand rested against the glass, as though he were trying to warn me about something.
Then the curtain closed.
And no one could have imagined what was about to happen next.
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