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“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” my father said.
Jason squeezed my hand a little too hard again, this time rubbing my left ring finger.
“It’s okay, Mr. Dayton. I’ll be visiting a jewelry store with your daughter right after I graduate.”
My stomach dropped as both sets of parents smiled at us, no doubt seeing their plan unfold. I cocked my head to Jason, whispering under my breath. “Shouldn’t we discuss this, Jason? Especially if I’m going to travel.”
Apparently, my whispering could be heard from across the table. My father didn’t want to hear any more about my travel plans. “Jason, you’re really making us proud today. Sometimes I wonder what could have happened if Isabella….”
My mother patted my father on his back and glared at me. “Now, now dear. Let’s not worry about what could have been, okay?”
I wanted to throw up.
Jason would learn the ropes at Frost Technology and eventually take over, we’d get married within a year, and then I’d be pregnant. Maybe I’d have a marketing job with the company for a short time, but Jason wanted a large family.
And he wanted it right away.
I wasn’t an active participant in my own life. I was swept through the motions, checking off little boxes of things that were prescribed for me. It didn’t matter that I had my own ambitions, dreams, and desires. I lived my life through the lens of Jason’s wants and needs, and those happened to coincide with the our parents.
“My wife is right,” my father said, beaming with pride. “Jason, you’ve always been like a son to us. With the satellite offices of Frost Technology, we were worried that you’d whisk our precious Isabella to another part of the country.”
Jason’s dry lips brushed the back of my soft hand.
“No need to worry about that, sir. However, I do plan on expanding the company if my father will allow for it.”
Jason’s father saw dollar signs as he leaned back in his chair.
“That’s what I’d hope you do, anyway. Especially with the market being so cutthroat right now. We’ve never had so many competitors.”
Refusing to have my future planned out anymore, I had to speak up again. “Actually, going international might be a good idea for Frost…”
My mother patted the back of my hand from across the table. “Dear, I don’t think it’s polite to criticize the Frost family. Especially since they’ve done so much for you.”
“Oh, no, I wasn’t trying to criticize it! But on my trip to Italy, I could…”
“Now Isabella,” my father said, “I told you…”
“No, Dad, listen to me, okay? I know what I’m talking about.”
My mother pursed her lips and leaned across the table. “Isabella, watch your tone with your father.”
I slammed my fist on the table, causing utensils to fly into the air as the equally primped and proper people around us glared. “When will any of you realize that I’m a grown woman who can think for herself?”
My mother pouted her ruby red lips together, folded her arms, and stared me down with those ice-blue eyes fit for an ice queen. “Remember what happened the last time you thought for yourself?”
Silence fell over the table. The only sound came from nearby patrons, who were clinking their silverware and lowering their voices as they side-eyed us. We had officially become the wealthy, white trash family of the country club.
Jason’s drunk mother broke the tension a few moments later. “Did they redecorate since the last time we were here?”
That’s all it took for normalcy to return to our brunch. At least for everyone but myself.
Time seemed to stand still as I stared out the windows, questioning every major life decision as everyone else at the table enjoyed themselves, pretending I hadn’t just spoken out of turn.
After dodging hugs, I hightailed it to my car before Jason finally caught up to me.
“Isabella, we need to talk about what just happened.”
My long, blonde hair whipped him in the face as I turned around. “No, we don’t, Jason. I gotta get back to school.”
He watched me drive off without so much as a kiss, hands buried deep in his khakis as I made my way back to Exley. I somehow managed to make it onto the highway before the tears came. One by one, they trickled into my cleavage, dampening my white bra and leaving mascara stains on my cheeks.
By the time I reached my bedroom in the Rho Alpha Xi sorority house, all I could think about was the ultrasound. After curling up in bed, I stared at the pictures on my cell phone as the tears never stopped coming.
As if having a miscarriage at seventeen years old wasn’t traumatic enough, my parents couldn’t have been any less supportive. I’d never forgotten the look of disgust on their faces when I announced my pregnancy, followed by my intention of keeping the baby. It was always in the back of their minds, to be used as ammo anytime I stepped out of line like I had done at the brunch earlier. One single mistake was all the proof they needed that I would never be able to take care of myself, or make my own decisions.
As I rocked myself to sleep that afternoon, all I could think about was how my mother responded to my miscarriage.
“It serves you right for being a whore.”
