Sharing Corrie

Chapter Twenty Seven

Corrie's heart skittered in her chest as every eye in the room focused on her. Time seemed to slow as she stared from Edwin's wide doe-eyes to the glamorous ring he held before her. Marry me, his eyes seemed to plead. Everyone in the crowd anticipated her acceptance. Corrie knew that there was only one answer; she had already determined within herself that Edwin was her only choice.

Her answer was yes--it had to be yes, yet some tremor inside of her hesitated, keeping the acceptance on the tip of her tongue from escaping. She had to say yes, yet how could she?

Her father tapped his cane on the ground, and Corrie jerked to the present. Edwin stared at her in expectancy, doubt wavering in the dark shades of his eyes.

"Yes," Corrie finally murmured, voice resolved.

This is your only option. This is where you belong.

Edwin slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and pulled her into a tender embrace, kissing her on the cheek. As he held her, Corrie whispered, "I'll marry you, but not until Christina recovers."

As they separated, Edwin's hands squeezed her upper arms and he smiled at her though his eyes remained steely. "We'll talk about it later," he murmured.

Corrie felt a chill travel down her spine at his words and she felt like a leaf tossed into the wind, flying to and fro at its every whim. She had lost all control. Corrie summoned a smile as the town flocked to congratulate them, and the sound of Edwin's voice grated in her ears. She wanted to run out of the room, flee from everyone, find a few moments of solitude so she could make sense of everything.

She glanced down at her hand, barely recognizing such an elaborate piece of jewelry on her knobby finger. To her, it almost seemed garish against her simplistic clothing and plain features. It shone in a glimmer of winter sunlight through the window as a perfect example of everything Edwin offered: tasteless finery, gaudy ostentation, overwhelming wealth.

"Darling, don't you love the ring?" Corrie started when her mother grabbed her hand, fawning over the diamond. "When your fiance showed it to me, I knew it would be perfect."

Corrie steadied her pounding head with a hand and stuttered, "You...you knew? You knew he was going to propose?"

Anita smiled, her teeth too large against her thin, drawn face. "Of course! This was his idea, but he was the perfect gentleman, asking for your father's permission. We knew you'd love the party, and the ring is divine."

Battling the wave of panic threatening to overwhelm her, Corrie wondered how her mother could be so mistaken about her. Though she spent little time daydreaming, a younger Corrie had always envisioned a private proposal somewhere outside where they could privately express their true thoughts and feelings. She hadn't expected such a showy display of wealth and grandeur. Perhaps neither her parents nor her now fiance truly knew her.

"But in front of everyone, I...I had to accept him." Corrie wished she could make her mother understand but knew it was fruitless.

Anita appeared flummoxed. "But darling, you would have accepted his proposal regardless of the location."

Of course her mother was right, wasn't she? Corrie nodded her acquiescence and drew in a quick breath, reassuring herself that this was right, this was perfect. She was engaged to a doting, generous man who greatly admired her and could offer her a wonderful life outside of Irvington. What more could she ask for? Corrie abolished the question immediately, knowing the traitorous thoughts that would come to light if she entertained her discontent any longer.

"Cornelia, darling, congratulations."

The signature odor of Oliver's cologne assaulted Corrie's sense as he embraced her in their first hug in perhaps years. Corrie tried to smile at him and suppress the feeling of entrapment. His features expressed more paternal pleasure than she'd ever seen.