Islands

29. The Island of Broken Hearts

The week went by in the blink of an eye. My parents had me meet more men, and they scolded me for not sealing the deal. As time went on my sadness began to be noticed by Will who was concerned, however I assured him that I was just exhausted with studies and helping out with the wedding. Josh continued to call me but I ignored every single one.

My parents began to consider Josh as their last hope of giving me away. A life with Josh was a terrible one. The idea that my parents hated me to the point that they'd give me to a complete monster was hit me hard but sense under my family's history.

These two last weeks would be my last on the island. Then the mainland would go back to consume me and turn me into the ghost of a 1950s submissive and frightened woman. The boat was nearly twenty minutes from docking on the island.

I sat at a table inside the cabin. Looking out the window, staring at the water. My hands intertwined in a nervous tick with, my heart burned as my life choices ran through my head.

"Coffee?" Will offered.
I looked up and slightly nodded as I took the cup from him. He sat in the seat across from me.

"Thank you." I choked out.
I looked back out the window and sighed.

"You know, I was gonna have you be my best man, but Kristi wants those traditional wedding things, don't wanna piss off my new wife," he says ridding us of silence.

"I don't want to get married. Not for a while anyway. The idea kind of...freaks me out. Its so claustrophobic. The traditions, I mean, not marriage. Giving yourself to someone you love isn't the problem. Its the people that judge you, watch your every move. You have to wear white, you have to have your father give you away...all of it's so foreign," I say thinking out loud.

"I know what you mean, but, Kristi's worth it."

It is silent for a minute. I fiddle with the cardboard sleeve on the paper cup.

"Alligator, you know you can always tell me what's wrong, right? We've lived similar lives-," He begins but I cut him off laughing.

"Similar lives? You've never had to deal with mom and dad like I have."

"I know. If I could change that, I would-" again I cut him off.

"No you wouldn't...if you were in my shoes for one dinner, you'd beg to go back. Being judged every second of every minute, every single day of your life. My entire life has been a wedding. What to wear, how to sit, how to stand, how to talk, what to do, what not to do. God forbid I fuck up, because if I do......well, you've seen what happens," I say gazing over to our mother who sits a few tables away with our father.
Will fallows my gaze and lets out a painful sigh.

"He doesn't do that anymore," Will objects.

"How do you know? You left!" I don't yell but my anger makes me nearly jump from my seat.

"I know I did, but, he doesn't do that anymore...does he?"  Will says concerned, leaning across the table.

"You're a detective and you still haven't noticed the bruises on mom's arms? She hides the bruises on her cheek with makeup."

He shakes his head and tries to process the information.

"How long?"

"Since I got back from the first week with Kristi...so...nearly two months ago."

"Are you hurt?" I shake my head.

"I've been a good girl, tried to do what he says. That includes the parties, the flirting with his disgusting business partners to make them happy. They keep trying to pimp me out, you know...not for money...I mean they want me to marry some rich man...soon though I'll be a negotiation for one of his business deals," I say as a tear fall down my cheek. I wipe it away and sniffle.