Fifty-Six

AS if by design, Señor Sylver—Papa Sylver—and Chairman Castro arrived then to check on her with a nurse from the hacienda center who lived here.
Miranda was the daughter of one of the older farmers and a senior to her and her friends by seven years.
She checked her carefully for further injuries, concern in her eyes apparent. After making sure her cuts and scratches were laden with antibacterial cream and she had taken in the right medicine for her body pains, she tapped her on her shoulder and smiled down at her.
“You’ll be okay. The Señor and Señorito are both your allies you, as well as so many other people here, Arianna. Don’t let this derail you, kid, okay?”
She felt more confused after the nurse had left because, in the kitchen where the elders had retired for coffee and further apologies and discussions, she felt like she wasn’t gaining control of her own life.
This feeling started quite a while now. There was so much in the future she wasn’t sure about, nor did she feel secure, suddenly. She realized she had no idea if she was equipped to face this new development.
They were talking about a wedding.
She hadn’t planned to marry early.
She was just twenty-two. She felt like, although she had given up the last few years of her education for a justified reason, she barely had the chance to stand on solid ground again.
Although she had talked about the subject with Eric, she couldn’t imagine herself married.
Or not yet.
She just got beaten this morning by two people who did not even have any worthy influence on his life anymore, and she couldn’t defend herself. She had no education, nothing to offer. Why couldn’t they see she was a liability to Eric?
She was hesitant to go to the kitchen to be with them. Tommy hovered by the entrance, practically eavesdropping. She could hear Señor Sylver’s angry voice, and she had to hasten forward to hear what was going on again.
“As soon as Brad explained what happened here, I called the station to report what happened. Brad agreed to bear witness.”
“He did?” Eric said darkly, his face scowling. Remembering Brad clearly pissed him off.
“I don’t think he has any other choice because if he doesn't do this, he will be standing with them against me on the complaint. He sneaked them in. He was as involved with the physical assault as they were.”
“Señor! I mean… Papa Sylver,” she amended as she found herself walking into the kitchen after what she heard.
The Señor was sitting on one of the wooden stools across the table, her mother on another on the right, and the Chairman across her. Eric was across from his father and turned away from her, but beside her was a vacant stool where he led her to sit after reaching for her hand.
“You don’t have to do this. They’re going to get angrier at me.”
The Señor was smiling grimly. “They will find any excuse to put you down because they think too highly of themselves. They must be put in place. Humiliation can do that. It’s also going to be a lesson to anyone who will try and do this. They’re going to spread the rumor that Brad told them, and there’s nothing we can do to stop that. But we can fight it off, make it seem a malicious gossip, by Brad denying it… and by the two of you getting married.”
She gulped. “Do we really need to resort to that?”
Eric was still holding her hand and his hold tightened for a moment before he spoke. “The marriage will protect you and your family from a lot of situations like this, Arianna. You’ll be legally bound to me.”
“I don’t know how it can help with the rumor when there were other witnesses during the time. There were the girls in the bar, and then there is Madame Venus.”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “There is no Madame Venus in town anymore. And the girls… as far as they know, you’ve been sent home when I found out you actually do not work there. I paid Brad for the money he used to pay them out of charity, so she will not need to harass Tommy for it. You both live in the hacienda. She could go to jail for what she did, easily.”
“When did this happen?” Yna asked, surprised. She never heard that Madame Venus had folded her business and left.
“A while back.” Eric lowered his eyes. “I expected the possibility of something like this happening. “Brad was stupid enough to tell mother and his cousin about it, but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to give them any more details after today.” Then, his eyes raised to focus on her face again. “Anyone who will try to hurt you again from now on will have declared war on me. Mother and Helene are stupid enough not to leave right away, so they’re going to stay in jail tonight until they can come out in the morning. Let’s see what a bigger scandal will be—the unfounded gossip about you, or them sleeping on a dirty floor inside a provincial cell after sneaking here to bully you. It’s leverage against them.”
“Well, if you already have this leverage—"
“We’re still going to get married,” he said, taking her argument away from her. “The protection I am offering with my name is not the main reason, sweetheart,” he said softly. Then he glanced at her mother and his father across the table from them. “It’s about my principle and your honor. Regardless if they can prove it or not, there should be nothing that will make others doubt what you are to me.”
“I…” She stopped. She was going to say she didn’t care about what others really thought—she already knew what she meant to him. But she remembered that her mother was there, and Tommy… she could feel him bristling in the doorway.
This was the problem with her younger brother being exposed to older, old-fashioned, and highly principled men. He expected that she should be taken care of by a man, if not by him, then by someone who already earned his respect.
Then her mother would stop worrying about her reputation once she was married to Eric, who she had already gone to bed with many times.
This was really more her fault than anyone else. So she felt that there was something wrong about this… that she was putting Eric in a situation he might not like in the long run. He was getting married to someone he just knew for a short time! There could be so many things that might happen in the next two months, in a year, in two years…
She loved him… but the others were right. He was more than she could ever hope for. She was not worthy enough to be with him.
She knew.
They didn’t need to beat her about it.
“You know I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” she heard him say, and she realized she was indeed quiet for more than a few moments while she watched his face.
She lowered her eyes.
“Kuya Eric… Ate Yna has been through a lot the whole day. Maybe it’s all happening too fast for her. Maybe we can give her time to think about it first and then you can all ask her again tomorrow morning.”
She glanced at her brother, completely surprised. When he saw her looking he very minimally—she thought she just imagined it—rolled his eyes at her.
She wanted to pull his ear and hug him tightly at the same time.
Pissed off at her, looked at her as if she was the greatest traitor, but still the most protective.
She couldn’t marry and leave this house to be with Eric. She wasn’t ready to leave her family yet.
Yet, if she didn’t do what they wanted her to do, she was going to
betray her mother and Tommy more. She would drag them with her to whatever fallout rejecting Eric was going to cause.
And can I really even do that?
She turned to look back at her boyfriend.
He watched her back, trying to hide his feelings from his face, but not managing to control his frown or the darkening of his eyes.
And just thinking she was going to hurt and disappoint him constricted her heart. Her breathing hitched and she felt like her eyes hurt.
She really didn’t know what to do. She didn’t. Something felt wrong about the marriage, but she couldn’t hurt him. Seeing it made her hurt more.
“Hey…” He was frowning harder now. His hand reached for her and held her cheek. “Hey, it’s going to be alright.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know. It’s always going to be like this.”
She pulled her hand from his and she stood up. The stool fell from her hasty, panicky movements. She couldn’t look at the others while they asked how she felt, if she was feeling alright. But she felt closed in.
“I need to be alone,” she breathed out. “Please. I just need to be alone.”
She ran from the kitchen even though she could hear her mother’s voice calling her name. She ran up the stairs to her room and closed the door, because that was the only place she could hide from prying eyes who would judge her, or would tell her what to do.
Especially the ones who would tell her it was going to be alright when she knew it wasn’t true.