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“What?”
“A princess story,” chimes Leia, with vibrant eyes.
“No, a dragon story.”
I end up reading both, and the girls argue about which is the better story. Then I go to say my goodbyes. I hope everyone is ready for what my marriage will do to me. Because a volatile me is the last thing this family needs.
When we finish dinner, I move to stand when my father says, “Join me in my office.”
Nerves that haven’t eased since they returned a few hours ago burst inside me. I look from my mother to my father, my throat tightening.
The past few years have been good. I found my routine. I thought we had come to an agreement, but my frayed nerves tell me the reprieve is coming to an abrupt end.
I follow him while my mother encourages me with a strained smile. Her hand lifts to me, only to drop into her lap.
Inside his office, the door closes behind me with a loud click.
My father gestures for the brown leather armchair. I stare at it, trying to ease my mind by reminding myself the staff cleans the house spotless for me.
My mother takes the seat in front of me, with that forced smile plastered on her face that I am afraid will remain permanently.
“How are you?”
That’s a strange question. I feel my eyebrows furrowing. “Fine, Father.”
“Violet.” It’s in the way he pronounces my name with a long, guttural sound ringing with frustration. Inadequacy descends on my head with the force of Thor’s hammer.
“This can’t go on.”
“I don’t understand,” I stammer.
It’s my mother’s turn to open her mouth.
“Violet, we worry and have been patient, haven’t we? But I don’t think it’s healthy for you to continue like this.”
Why? I’m comfortable. Besides, they know damn well that I can’t.
“I’m alive.”
They suck all the air from the room.
I add, “Would it have been better if I died?”
“Violet,” my father sighs, and drags a hand down his face, revealing the tiredness blanketing his face.
“I’m sorry, but I will no longer accept my daughter throwing her life away.”
My head drops and I stare at the dark parquet flooring, polished to perfection. Just like my parents want me to be.
“Why not?” I squeeze my eyes shut, hating how weak my voice sounds. I hate it even more, knowing I can’t be what they want me to be.
“I won’t argue with you any longer. This life also brings responsibilities, and, my dear, you have those as well. I remember your fierceness when you were little. You were the slayer of dragons, Violet. You were never afraid of anything, and now...”
Now, I am even afraid of the air. I blink the tears away and stare at my father.
“That’s not me any longer.”
“And maybe it’s time you become what you could have been.”
