“Is your dad making you say this? Is he hurting you?” Oliver interrupts, the phone now on speaker.
“No, this is my decision. I came to my senses. I belong here with my family, and I’m going to marry Matt.”
“You are lying,” Sullivan says, and it takes everything in me not to confess the truth, but then I thought about what my father said. He will hurt them… I need to keep them safe. Because however hard losing them will be, it would be unimaginably harder to know that they will get hurt or worse because of me. I couldn’t live with myself if… I can’t even finish that thought.
“Harlow, is this really what you want?” Banks asks, and I can hear the pain he is feeling through the phone.
“Yes, this is what I want. You need to leave me alone, forget about me. Move on… I already have.” I end the call at the end of the sentence. I can’t get another word out without crying. I power off my phone before they can call or message me again.
My heart feels so incredibly heavy, like it’s about to drag me down, and never let me get up again. I fall back into my bed, curl into a ball and start crying, hoping that I’ll be strong enough to get through this. Hoping that maybe Matt was right that we can make this work, and that maybe, just maybe one day I can be happy again.
13
The days move slow, time passes at a snail’s pace. The last week has felt like an eternity full of nothingness. My mom has been planning the wedding, acting like she is in heaven, while I’m in hell. She’s begging me to pick flowers, color schemes, dinner choices and try cakes. All I want to do is yell in her face… I don’t care about fucking cake!
Since I’ve been back here, small memories of my childhood have resurfaced, none of them are particularly great, but neither are they alarming. It seems like on paper, I had an okay childhood. I remember actually loving my parents at some point. I remember the feeling of wanting to please them and the need for their affection. I still don’t remember even close to everything, so I don’t know when exactly my feelings toward my family changed, all I know is that those feelings of wanting them close are long gone, and I doubt I’ll ever get them back.
“Harlow, which one do you like the best?” My mother interrupts my thoughts. I look at the three wedding dresses the seamstress hung up to show me. Shrugging my shoulders, I can’t even bring myself to feel a smidge of happiness. I don’t care what I’m wearing to get married. I’ll get married in a pair of jeans and a tank top for all I care.
“Just pick one,” my mom urges impatience lacing her words, “or I’ll pick one for you.”
“The one in the middle,” I say quickly, not wanting to give my mom the satisfaction of being able to pick. If this is all I have left to rebel against, then I’ll take it.
“Okay, try it on,” she crosses her arms over her chest.
Maria, the seamstress, helps me into the pearl white designer gown while I move my body on autopilot. She zips me up in the back and turns me gently to face the mirror. Staring at my reflection, I know I should feel something, anything… but I don’t. My gaze moves over the mirror. The dress fits like a glove, hugging my waist, and my thighs, and at my knees, it flails out. It’s beautiful, but it’s not me.
“It’s a mermaid cut, and it’s the dress to have this season. Not everyone can pull it off though. You, however… well, let me just say you look gorgeous in it,” Maria gushes. I try and smile, but my lips refuse to pull up. I know it’s not her fault, that she’s simply trying to be nice, but I don’t care.
“It’s perfect,” I say, my voice monotone.
“Liven up, Harlow. You’re getting married, not being sent to the slaughterhouse.”
I can’t withhold my eye roll a second longer.
“Maybe not, but I would much rather be sent to the slaughterhouse at this point.”
“Maria, please give my daughter and me a moment.” Like the good little slave, she is, Maria slips from the room without a word.
My mother crosses the space that separates us, her menacing eyes finding mine in the mirror.
“Maybe you don’t want to get married to Matt, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. Life is full of choices, and sometimes those choices aren’t always the ones we want to have to make, that doesn’t mean you have to be so bitter about it. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position right now?”