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I couldn’t deny that Brandon was classically handsome, had an excellent job at his father’s accounting firm, and was always kind to his mother. In fact, he’d been the perfect boyfriend for the past five years. He was a good guy. The type parents loved and helped old ladies cross the street. He didn’t excessively drink or smoke, and he never hit me. He followed all the rules and was as straight-laced as they came. There was no doubt we’d have a stable future together.
So what was halting me? Was stable good enough?
The longer I stood frozen without saying anything, the more the dimple disappeared, and I picked at my nails, a clear sign my anxiety had ramped up even higher by attacking them.
This was it. I couldn’t pass out and hope everyone forgot. A panic attack wouldn’t save me this time. I had to give him an answer.
Glancing down at the object I’d been ignoring until now, I stared at the opened ring box. Brandon’s shoulders relaxed as my eyes fell on the glittery diamond, his smile returning tenfold. He held it out to me like he was offering me the most precious gift in the entire world.
Sorry, dude. But my brother gave me that when he saved my life. Bone marrow trumped any diamond ring. Them’s the facts.
“So, will you? Will you marry me, BB?”
You’d think I’d be jumping for joy, right? That I’d be ecstatic my boyfriend had just proposed to me in such a grand way. You’d probably even think I’d been dreaming and hoping about this for months.
Hate to break it to you, sis, but you’d be wrong.
Dread, fear, and an overwhelming sense of doom sat in my gut as I stared down at him, sheer panic in my eyes. I licked my lips as I tried to wet them, my mouth drying quicker than a desert as the suffocating pressure surrounded me. I didn’t do big crowds, public speaking, or any type of activity where I was the central focus for this very reason.
Scanning the crowd, I finally recognized some faces; my mom smiled back at me with tears in her eyes, my dad and his—much younger—new girlfriend looked on with excitement, and my brother watched me with his protective stare in place, ready to jump in and save me as he always did.
How sad was it that I really wanted him to? I was twenty-four years old, and I needed my big brother to save me. I didn’t know which was more pathetic—that fact or this proposal.
I always assumed I’d feel happy at this moment, but the only thing I felt was disappointment. A crushing, breath-stealing—make you wish a black hole would appear—disappointment.
Brandon didn’t know me at all.
How could he, if he chose to propose this way? My literal nightmare.
And if he did presume to know me and still proposed this way, then that was even worse. He knew how I’d feel about this and decided to do it anyway. He hadn’t taken my feelings into consideration and instead was selfish, liking how this would make him look in the eyes of everyone else.
We weren’t alike at all, not how I thought, anyway.
My emotions warred inside of me as he gazed at me with confidence; no doubt in his mind that I’d say yes. I was, after all, the girl who never caused any waves, who felt privileged just to be alive, and who never wanted to be a burden. The reality was, I felt obligated to say yes… like I didn’t have a choice.
And that made me feel dirty.
“I, uh, I…” My cheeks heated, and I twisted my hands more as the pit in my stomach opened wider.
This wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right. Apprehension coated me like a fake fur coat, suffocating me in the heat to the point I felt lightheaded. Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing if it was the proposal itself or the fact it was Brandon doing it.
Geesh, that was a hard thing to think about my potential fiancé, but I didn’t know how else to frame it. Being the center of attention as everyone stared at me was my literal worst fear, and this proposal was the fucking Olympics of my recurring nightmare.
Which brought me back around to hoping it was a nightmare because the man I loved and married should know that about me. And it wasn’t like it was a big secret. In fact, it was common knowledge. I loathed being put on the spot. Always had. It was probably from all the unwanted attention my illness had brought me and growing up in the limelight, but now wasn’t the time to dive deep into my psyche.
“Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!” the crowd chanted as they grew impatient. The volume rose, amping up my heart rate, and I knew I needed to get out of this situation immediately before I did something embarrassing like faint or pee my pants.
So I did the only thing I could do at that moment and prayed it was the right one.
“Um, yes.” I grimaced, squeezing my eyes as I waited for the onslaught of embarrassment to hit me.
Brandon beamed at me, clearly not caring I looked more like I’d been asked to take a dump in the middle of the crowd and not to marry him. His dimple glinted as he stood and lifted me off my feet. His arms wrapped around me, and his classic mint scent engulfed me as he pressed my nose into his perfect ensemble. But it was better than seeing all the stares, so I wrapped my arms around him and held on for dear life.
My heart slowed, and my breathing returned to normal as he let me go, sliding the shiny diamond onto my finger.
“Did you love the proposal? I wanted to do something big to show you how much I love you. Bryce wasn’t sure you’d go for it, but I knew you would. I just knew,” Brandon gushed as both of our parents surrounded us.
It didn’t surprise me that my brother had tried to stop this, and his earlier cagey behavior now made more sense; he was my best friend and the person who knew me the best. Sadness crept in when I realized it wasn’t the man I was marrying.
