147 — Why am I so stupid?

What... What’s he saying?
I blink a few times, with a shiver spreading through my body, crawling my skin. I hug my own body, swallowing hard at the lump forming in my throat.
“I love you, Angelee,” Eric says, but they’re empty words. I know they are.
My stomach twists, and I really feel like throwing up.
“Love me?” I snort, my heart beating fast, so fast that it could easily tear out of my chest and jump out. I wouldn’t blame it... *I also want to run away from here.* “Are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t look at me like that, honey... I know you’re still upset with me, but I’m being honest, I really love you. You’re the love of my life, and I haven’t been able to forgive myself for a second since you left me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” My voice fails me, and my heart beats in my throat, squeezing, giving way neither to air nor to words. That’s why I swallow hard and force it back down into my chest.
“I know, Angelee... I know you still love me.”
“You’re crazy-”
“Please marry me, honey... I promise I’ll make you the happiest woman on earth.”
I look around, noticing glances at me.
People are waiting expectantly for my answer, and I can feel the weight of it on my shoulders... But it’s when my eyes fall on Mrs. Smith’s expression that I truly understand what’s happening here.
Eric is proposing to me in front of all these people...
The man who cheated on me is asking me to be his wife.
Here, in this place... today, with so many witnesses... He knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?
He’s trying to manipulate me, as he always does.
I open my lips to answer him, but nausea prevents all the words from escaping. I put my hand up to my mouth, trying to hide the fact that I’m about to throw up in front of everyone.
*No, my baby... not now...*
“Honey?”
Hearing him call me like that makes my stomach turn so sharply and painfully that vomit comes up my throat.
Desperation takes hold of me, and the urgency makes me look around, searching for the restroom. And just as my eyes find the sign, my feet quickly guide me there. Fortunately, it’s not far away; it’s right next to the table.
As I enter the room and push open the toilet door, I lean over and throw up only the water in my stomach; I’ve been sensitive all day, and I’ve barely been able to eat... I was hoping that the evening would be pleasant and I could have something to eat when Julian and I went on our date, but...
*Julian.*
My eyes widen with tears, and they begin to trickle down my face. I rest my hand on my forehead, closing my eyes tightly, hating myself for having ruined everything.
Why did I have to come here? It was a tragedy foretold! How could I have expected Eric to have the decency to respect my decision? He never did. And now, he’s turned the most important night of my life into a terror, a real nightmare.
How will I face Julian after this? How would I say that my ex-boyfriend proposed to me in front of so many people, and I was incapable of answering the obvious?
Sobs escape my lips, and I feel a new urge to throw up, but there’s nothing else to expel. My mouth is bitter, not because of the unspoken words.
I run my hand over my face, drying my tears and my lips, which aren’t dirty or wet, but I do it anyway.
*Damn it, I want to disappear.*
I pick up my bag with trembling hands and look at Julian’s number. I stare at his contact photo, his beautiful smile, his sparkling eyes... The face of the man I want to spend my life next to.
My eyes go down to the button that will allow me to hear his voice, and just as my finger is about to press it, I lose my conviction.
He’ll know there’s something wrong just by hearing my voice.
I take a deep breath and decide that sending a text would be better. But my trembling fingers struggle to type and end up hitting the wrong keys, leaving my words full of typos. But I insist; I erase and rewrite it again and again until I can press SEND.
ㅤ
ㅤ**Me, now**
ㅤ*Can you wait for me outside?*
ㅤ
Taking a deep breath, I get up, flush the toilet, and walk to the sink as if there were weights on my feet. I rest my hands on the marble and lift my face, finding my pathetic reflection, my make-up smeared from the crying I couldn’t contain.
*I look like a mess.*
I wash my hands quickly, with force, some aggression that comes from my frustration with the situation — with myself, to the point that I let out an angry grunt, slamming my fist down on the sink with a new urge to cry.
My eyes are burning.
My heart is broken, but it still beats very strongly.
I want to get out of here.
I want to run into Julian’s arms and feel his comforting warmth. I want to feel his lips and hear his voice telling me it’s okay...
Why am I so stupid?
I wash my mouth and face, splashing cold water to try to regain my composure. I lift my face again, finding my eyelashes wet and the black mark under my eyes.
I really look awful, huh? It reminds me of when I woke up in Julian’s house after drinking my heart out, wearing only his shirt.
Somehow, this memory brings a smile to my lips, and I’m surprised by it... After all, since when did Julian give a new meaning to that terrible night? How was he able to turn something so painful into something light that brings me a silly smile?
Julian is the only one capable of it.
I love him so much...
So much so that I really want to spend the rest of my life by his side.
I take a deep breath and dry my face carefully, wiping under my eyes with a tissue. I may look a little more presentable now, but I know Julian will be able to recognize my chaos from a distance.
I can tell you about it later... right now, I just need to get out of here.
So I hasten my step out of the restroom, but as soon as I’m through the door and across the small hall, I hear Mrs. Smith’s voice sounding loud and... harsh...?
*“You good-for-nothing!”*
*“I’m sorry, Mom...”* Eric’s voice sounds low and sad. *“I’ve ruined everything.”*
*“You surely did.”* She retorts. *“Not even getting down on your knees will soften her heart... do you realize what you’ve done? All our effort... you’ve ruined everything for a bitch!”*
My legs wobble, and I take a step backward, sealing my lips and stopping breathing for fear of giving away the fact that I’m here.
*“How did you get to this point?”* Mrs. Smith snorts, apparently impatient. *“I told you, you should have gotten her pregnant right away!”*
Wait... what?
*“I wasn’t... I wasn’t ready to have a child.”*
*“Really? You’d have so many nannies that you wouldn’t need to worry about baby shit! All you needed was to get her pregnant and get your hands on all that money! But you’re just as useless as your father — with no ambition!”*
Oh, heavens... I think I’m going to throw up all over again.
*“How could you not do something as simple as that? If you stuck your dick in those bitches, why didn’t you do it right?”*
*“Mom, she’s... Angelee is not like that.”* Eric’s voice sounds shaky, and I bet his expression is terrible right now. *“Angelee’s a virgin.”*
*“And why didn’t you sort that out right away?”* Mrs. Smith retorts again, annoyed, and like she’d remembered she was in public, she lowers her voice, making it almost difficult to hear her... *“She’s your girlfriend... how hard is it to stick your dick in? It doesn’t matter if she’s playing hard to get... you just had to push a bit... But I think you’re too loose for that.”*
No... What are those words?
It’s Mrs. Smith’s voice, yes... But to say something like that, with that tone...
She wouldn’t do that; it’s so out of character...
That’s not Mrs. Smith.
Not the kind woman who smiles at me...
Not the woman who always hugged me when she saw me.
Something is shattering inside me... I think it’s faith, my confidence, my own heart... I don’t know, maybe it’s all at once.
*“Angelee thinks you wanted us to get married as virgins... And she started holding it in... it wasn’t my fault.”*
*“And why did you let her think that?”* She seems furious, saying between her teeth, *“You really are a fool! You had four years of opportunity, and you just threw it all away because you’re weak! If she thought that for so long, it’s because you let so!”*
*“It’s not that simple-”*
*“Then make it simple, Eric! Don’t you want an easy life? Oh, honestly... You don’t understand, do you? How lucky you were to find a bastard from a rich family... Do you know how rare it is? You were so lucky to find someone like her, and you let her go! How many rich, silly, needy girls do you expect to meet? There’s no one like Angelee O’Neil — she’s the key to all that fortune!”*
So, all this time, did they only see a dollar sign?
They didn’t see *Angelee...* they only saw my father’s money.
And while I spent all this time trying to please them, to fit in... I just had to give them what they wanted... Funny, huh?
I got it all wrong from the start.
*“I...”*
*“Shut up!”* Mr. Smith interrupts him. *“Look how far I’ve come because of you! If it weren’t for your foolishness, I wouldn’t need to pretend to be sick! Do you know how inconvenient it is to pretend to be on the verge of death?”*
My eyes widen slowly, with realization falling ever harder over my shoulders, completely robbing me of air.
Wait...
Was Mrs. Smith pretending to have cancer? The same cancer that killed my mother?
*“Do something, Eric. I don’t care if you have to force yourself on her, just do something and fix the shit you’ve done! You don’t want her back? Then fix your mistake... If we lose this golden goose, I’ll never forgive you... Do you understand? You won’t just have lost Angelee or your job, but the family! Otherwise, forget we’re your parents!”*
This... It’s so fucked up.
I’m so disgusted...
I feel sick and tired.
Betrayed.
And this betrayal hurts a lot more than seeing Eric having sex with Laura.
This betrayal... hurts my *soul.*
Honestly, it hurts so much that I can’t stop my feet from carrying me back to the table, fast, urgent.
My vision is blurred from the angry tears I don’t dare cry.
They cornered me in this restaurant, under so many stares, because the Angelee they used to know was a pleaser.
Yes, it’s true... a pushover who would have felt pressured to accept it even after everything Eric had done.
But I’m not the same Angelee they knew. I’ve changed in the months I’ve been away from their hands.
I’ve freed myself from the strings that were on his fingers.
I’m no longer a puppet to their wishes.
And if they expected that I wouldn’t be able to regain my voice, they’re wrong... Because I was too quiet for too long, and now, I want to scream.