I Gave You Everything, But You Gave Me Nothing Novel – For two decades, I was the invisible one—the wife who no one noticed, no one heard, no one loved. On my fiftieth birthday, I dared to believe someone remembered me when I discovered that crimson dress I had always longed for. “For you? Are you out of your mind?” Victor, my husband, hissed.
“That’s for Selena. Take it off. You ruin everything—fat, hopeless. That dress? It’s not meant for you.” From the doorway, Leo, his brother and my former closest friend, leaned against the frame, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. Once, the three of us were inseparable—but then Selena, Victor’s secretary and the sister I once embraced as family, stole them both while I stood there, unsuspecting.
I murmured, “Maybe I wouldn’t keep eating if you’d finally taken me to Disneyland like you promised, twenty years ago…” “Disneyland?” Leo snorted. “Grow up.” Victor barked, “Marisol, stop wasting your time with fantasies. You do nothing for anyone. Why not be more like Selena? She’s capable, independent. You… you’re just nothing.” The final insult? A package arrived—a Disneyland trip—but not for me.
It was for Victor, Leo, Selena, and my own daughter, Clara. That was the breaking point. I had been replaced. So I called the divorce attorney, gathered my belongings, and walked away. Revenge was sweet on my mind—I would marry Victor’s fiercest rival. Yet just when I imagined they’d finally breathe easy with me gone, Victor and Leo fell to their knees, desperate to stop my wedding… but their love had come too late.
— The house was quiet, except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft ticking of the wall clock. For twenty years, I had existed in its corners, a presence unseen, unheard, unacknowledged. Today, though—my fiftieth birthday—I dared to hope that maybe someone had remembered me. On the bed, laid out like a promise, was the red gown I had dreamt of for years: an Audrey Hepburn original.
The silk was soft beneath my fingers, and for a moment, I let myself imagine stepping into the light, no longer a ghost in my own home. My heart raced, reckless and young, like I was sixteen again. I zipped the dress up with trembling hands, feeling it hug my curves even though time had softened them. I faced the mirror, drinking in the sight of myself. Then the door knocked open. Victor stormed in, eyes narrow, voice cutting like glass.
“What on earth are you wearing?” “I… I thought it was for me,” I stammered. “It’s my birthday, and—” “For you?” His laugh was sharp, bitter, crawling under my skin. “That’s Selena’s dress. She’s wearing it at her party tomorrow. Take it off!” I felt my throat close. “But… I’ve wanted this for years. Just once—” Victor closed the distance in two strides, fists clenched. “You ruin everything. Look at yourself—fat, pathetic.
You’ve even torn the zipper. That dress doesn’t belong on you.” Swallowing my humiliation, I murmured, “I overeat because of stress. Maybe if you’d actually bought that Disneyland ticket you promised me twenty years ago—” “Disneyland?” he sneered. “Grow up.” A low, mocking chuckle came from the doorway. Leo. My childhood friend, once my confidant, the one who had promised we’d never abandon each other—until Selena came between us, stealing them both while I smiled and called her family.
“Stop dreaming, Marisol,” Leo said, stepping fully into the room, eyes cold. “You contribute nothing here. Look at Selena—smart, independent, thriving. You? Nothing.” My lips quivered. “That’s not fair—I—” “Silence!” Victor roared. “Take it off! It will never suit you!” His hands tore at the silk; the seams split, scraping raw against my skin. I stumbled, clutching the ruined gown, as though it could shield me from shame.
“You’ve destroyed it!” Victor snarled. “Selena can’t wear this now—just like you, worthless.” He flung the shredded dress at me. Leo dropped a platinum card at my feet. “Go replace it. Don’t even think about returning until it’s done.” Tears blurred my vision. “Impossible! It’s a limited edition—” Victor smirked, closing in. “Exactly. So don’t bother coming back, you waste of space.” They left me there, holding the torn silk like a fragile shield.
Then came the patter of tiny feet. “Grandma!” Emmy shouted, slamming her bottle onto the floor. Milk splashed across the wood. “This tastes awful! Make me another one!” She glared at me, a tiny monarch scolding her servant. The humiliation lodged deep in my chest. “I’m not your maid, Emmy. Ask your father.” She ran off, tears streaming. Moments later, Clara appeared, eyes cold and sharp—like the ones she had when searching for me as a child. “Did you just make my daughter cry? What kind of grandmother are you?” Victor appeared, rage etched on his face. “You are nothing but a disappointment. I regret marrying you every day.” He grabbed my arm, dragging me down the hall like trash. Outside, he shoved me. I fell, twisting my ankle. The dog barked in its filthy kennel as the stench of mud and decay clung t