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Important? I feel hysterical. What about me? What about what I want? When is that going to be important?
"You can't do this to me," I manage to croak out, unsure if I'm speaking to myself or her. My mouth is dry, making it hard to swallow.
"No," I whisper, chest constricting with such intensity that it feels like it might crush me before anything else.
I don’t want to marry Jimmy. I don’t want any of this.
“We’ll plan a formal announcement, probably sometime next week. A photoshoot, of course.
Once you have your ring.” Her voice drones on. "The plans are set–"
My hands are shaking as I reach for the coffee cup. I can’t make my fingers work and I watch as it tumbles to the ground, brown liquid seeping into the white rug.
I double over, my arms gripping my stomach tight as I struggle not to vomit.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I look up to my mom for help, but nothing. This can’t be happening.
Images of Enzo and Nico flash through my mind, giving me hope. They would never let Jimmy have me.
But as I look around, I don’t see them anywhere.
My mother continues to talk but I can no longer hear the words from her lips.
My mind is just echoing with the same phrase, over and over. Engaged to Jimmy Cosa. Wedding in Spring. Engaged to Jimmy Cosa. Wedding in Spring.
“Albert and I have already discussed the logistics, but you’ll have final say on some of the décor decisions, of course. Give it a shot, Christina. Planning a wedding is a beautiful time of life.” My mom says, patting my knee.
I cringe away and glare at her.
“You can’t be serious.”
“This is in the best interest of the family.” She says, firmly.
Albert nods, but before he can say something, one of his men makes an appearance in the room. He waves and they go to guard the door. I hear shouting coming from another room.
What now?
“We’ll need to pick out a date,” he says. “Pick a Saturday in June, Christina, or I will.”
Where are Enzo and Nico when I need them? They wouldn’t leave me alone…
“The prenup will be signed shortly, we’re just waiting on the final version from the attorney.”
No. This is moving too fast.
I slip to the floor and fold myself over into a ball. My head hurts and I bury my face in my knees.
I want to fight. I want to scream and yell and tell Albert and my mother where they can shove it, but I feel paralyzed.
Instead of fighting, I feel hot tears fall down my face and the sounds of the room come back into focus.
A door slams downstairs, and I hear more voices shouting.
“You’ll be free of all this,” my mother says, her eyes glassy with tears. “Safe.”
I look at her and I can read between the lines. She wants me out of here. If I accept this, I could absolve her of the guilt she must feel for bringing me into it in the first place.
