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“So? What do you say?”

I can barely speak. It’s not a good barely speak, either. This is panic-is-bubbling-up-in-my-chest-and-I-can’t-speak.

Chandler is so expectant, a hesitant smile plastered on his face. He wobbles a little bit, as he’s still kneeling.

“I-uh-I-” He stands up.

“What’s wrong?” The box disappears into his back pocket, and I cry out against my better judgement.

“Wait!” His eyes light up again, and a dart of guilt rips into my heart, hitting the target dead on.

“Yes,” I say, forcing a smile. “Yes, a thousand times yes!” He lets out a joyous laugh, picks me up and spins me around. The tension in my chest only tightens. When he sets me down, he kisses me and then pulls the ring back out.

It’s hideous.

Or maybe it’s not, and my anxiety is clouding everything, but from where I stand, it’s an awful ring. Gold, with a gigantic diamond set in the center.

I asked him for something simpler, if this was ever going to happen, but maybe that was a foolish thing to do. Chandler hardly ever listens to me when I talk.

We take our pictures, and post them. We pack up the picnic basket and load up the car, and we drive away.

He’s humming, tapping a happy tune on the steering wheel, but I’m barely registering it. All I can feel is the rising panic attack that is bound to rip out of me at any moment. I focus on my breathing. Take a sip of my water, and stare out of the window.

He really couldn’t have picked a better spot. A field of sunflowers might be a little cliche, but sunflowers are my favorite. So maybe sometimes he does listen and this is just me overreacting again and if I tell him he’s going to call me crazy so of course I can’t but-

I suck in a deep breath and push it out.

“You okay, baby?” He asks, glancing at me.

“Mmhm,” I murmur. “Just a bit- overwhelmed- is all. Thinking of all the things we have to do for a wedding. I need to call my sister.” He shrugs.

“We’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Let’s make out when we get home.” I force myself not to cringe. I don’t want to make out. I want to call Livi, because she’s the only one who can calm me down. She’ll know what to do.

“I’d like to call my family first,” I say. Chandler groans.

“Come on, babe. We just got engaged. Can’t they wait?”

“They’re my family,” I say.

“Your sister is a killjoy.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I say, but it’s useless. Chandler has kept the same opinion of my sister since they first met, and she has a far worse one about him.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Don’t give me that overwhelmed bs. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. Are you cheating?” I reel back. Where did he get that one from?

“Am I not allowed to be overwhelmed by this?” He slows down and pulls the car over onto the shoulder.

“You’re being weird. Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I’m happy.”

“Then why are you being so weird about this? You’re acting like I just broke up with you instead of proposing. You’re acting crazy again.”

There it is. I had expected it, but not this soon in the conversation.

“I’m not being crazy. I’m being reasonable.”

“Just shut up about that and tell me what’s the matter with you.”

So, I Do. Or, at least in my head. In my mind I had been screaming, begging him to understand, to realize that this might not be what I want.

“We’ve only been dating for six months. Are you sure engagement right now is the best idea?” He scoffs, as if my questions are beneath him.

“Of course I’m sure. Do you know how much I spent on that ring?”

So it’s about the money. I figured as much.

“Does the price matter?”

“It matters because I’m not going to spend that much money on some crazy whore who can’t even be excited for two seconds about our engagement! I thought this is what you wanted. You told me you wanted to get married. Is it just not me you want? Be honest, Tally.”

I physically cannot speak. I have gone completely mute.

Whore. He called me a crazy whore.

I don’t give him the luxury of a response. I open the door and walk away, letting him yell and rant behind me. My phone is in my hand, my finger pressed over my sister’s number. I need someone to let my feelings onto, someone who can understand what I’m feeling.

And then, without warning, Chandler grabs me.

I scream as he rips the phone out of my hand and throws it.

“You can get that later,” he growls. “Give me the ring and get in the car.”

“No. I’m calling my sister.” I wrench myself from his grasp and make a mad dash for my phone, but it’s in vain. He’s bigger than me, faster than me, stronger than me.

“You’re not calling your sister. You’re getting in the car. And you’re giving me the ring.” I’m sobbing as he drags me towards the car. When I’m inside, he locks the doors and goes to get my phone. He tosses it in the backseat and looks at me with disgust.

He doesn’t take the ring, I notice.

“And don’t bother telling anybody about this,” he says, starting the car. “Because they won’t believe you.”

He’s right, of course.

We make the drive to his house in silence, and he doesn’t give my phone back. I sit in the kitchen, silently crying, as he calls all his buds.

“Yeah man, she’s hella hot. Come over some time and I might let you try her on.” Roaring laughter. My hands shake. I’m still wearing the ring, I realize, as it knocks against the countertop.

I wonder how much he spent on it. A lot, judging by the size of the diamond. Chandler claims to show love through his gifts, but it would be nice to feel love through anything else. Through kind words. Or kisses that feel like kissing the right person, rather than kissing a dead person. There is no passion in them, at least for me. I might as well have been kissing a block of stone when he swept me off my feet and kissed me the first time.

I glance back down on the ring with a glare.

I truly have never seen an uglier piece of jewelry, and in the reflection I see in the diamond, I doubt that ring has ever seen an uglier human.

March 13, 2020 15:17

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1 comment

Laura Austin
22:16 Mar 25, 2020

Disturbingly realistic about what goes in on some relationships, if a little extreme at the end. Fairly well written. Could use a little more inner monologue about how she feels in each moment, i.e.: betrayal, horror, hurt, fear.

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