AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There’s no engagement. Find another way.” I slam his office door closed as he yells at me, the sound muffled behind the wood. I can’t stop the grin as I realize I’ve finally stuck up for myself.
I finally told himno.
7
JOSEPHINE
Something is certainly wrong with me. I saw the card that the organizer was carrying around, confirming the supposed engagement of the handsome man. It was the invitation, removing all doubts.
I have seen invitations of these kinds, hundreds of them, coming in over the years. Requests for engagement parties, birthday parties, even weddings. Never has one struck me so deeply, like an arrow slicing through my heart.
It makes me feel like a lovelorn idiot, which is something I have never really been. The sight of the gold rimming around his name, along with the name of the supposed future-bride-to-be, stings me like an angry bee.
I try to keep myself busy at the coffee shop, ignoring the feelings of fairytale rejection. The man, Aiden, was just so beautiful. I have a hard time talking to anyone, much less people who strike me as utter gods in the flesh.
I have believed in love since I was a kid, of course, with the saturation of romantic films and books I devoured as a shy child. Maybe that screwed me up a little bit. I’m diseased now, a hopeless romantic to the point of ignoring my better judgment.
My autopilot of working through the pain is shattered when I see my phone start to ring next to me in the kitchen. I keep it on full blast at all times. The ringtone sounds out, a fluttery harp string. But the person calling is my father, and the sight of his face on the caller ID makes my heart pick up the pace.
I answer it anyway, of course.
“Dad? Everything okay?”
There is a long pause where my dad lets out a heaving sigh. The man has worked hard for us his entire life, rarely complaining during even the most understandable of inconveniences. Hearing him let out that regretful noise plants fear deep in my bones.
“It’s your mother. I think she is going to be needing that surgery we talked about earlier than the doctors suggested. Like, almost ASAP, honey.”
His voice sounds lovesick for his wife, forlorn. It eats at my insides. I will do anything I can to remedy that.
“What can I do?” I plead, pressing the phone hard into my face. “If we have to get it done, then we have to get it done…”
“Easier said than done, hon,” my dad interrupts. “I was thinking I could sell the van. That would be the fastest way.”
I cringe, gripping the phone in frustration.
“You need that van, Dad. It’s the only way you can make deliveries. Let me think of other things. I’m about to head home, anyway. Can I call you back then?”
“Of course.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, my darling.”
I hang up and shove the phone into my pocket. Remaining hopeful for the sake of a parent is like dragging yourself through thick mud. It is painful and difficult, but you will always at least try to do it. Even if I feel hopeless, I will not let that leech onto my dad.
Still, the mourning I just heard in his voice will haunt me forever.
I decide to leave early as the coffee shop isn’t too busy, and I’ve prepared our stock for the day. I need time to think about what on earth we can do to get the right amount of money to help out my mom, without losing the very thing that they both put their entire hearts and souls into.
If my dad sells the vehicle, leaving us unable to make deliveries, it’ll eat up a significant portion of our earnings. We can’t belosingmoney now. This is digging further into the hole, not climbing out of it.
I start to drive home, thinking about my parents, their pain, how utterly unfair life is. They had worked for years to get the shop up and running, to earn a respected reputation, and all for what? For my mother to get ill? To lose everything trying to save her?
I squeeze the steering wheel with one hand as I wipe my tears with the other. It really is an impossible situation. Either we lose the shop, or we lose my mother. Possibly, and even more likely, it is going to be both.
When I get home, I don’t eat much. I try to distract myself with mindless TV, but even that doesn’t feel suitable. I decide to go out again and drive; sometimes that can help shake up the dust in my brain.
I keep driving as dusk falls to darkness. It isn’t a habit of mine to do this, but it somehow feels soothing. My eyes begin to droop, and the moment I start to think that I should head home, it is already too late.
