Chapter Seven: Waiting

I stay in the bathroom just staring at my reflection in the mirror. I hear a knock at the door. I don’t answer in fear that it’s one of my family members. They knock again. I decide to respond in order to let them know someone's in here. But as soon as I say “someone’s in here” I immediately regret it. Because I hear that familiar shrill voice “RUBY, GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!” 

“Fuck” is the only thought that comes to my mind. Of course, it had to be someone in the family and not just anyone but my mother. “RUBY! OPEN THE DOOR. STOP MAKING A SCENE”. I roll my eyes at the hypocrisy. She’s the one going off like a fire alarm, but I am the one making a scene? I decide to just stay silent. There’s no way she can stay out there and just bang on the door all night. I hear more footsteps. Then I hear some hushed voices. “Ruby, open the door” the voice is calmer but far more colder. My father. 

I decide to stay quiet. I hold my breath, willing them to go away. A few more firm knocks. A couple minutes of whispered threats. My phone lights up with a notification. “Five minutes, be patient” the text says. And I say a silent prayer. Finally, I hear the voices outside the door fade, and I hear retreating footsteps. They're gone. So, I wait, in this fancy bathroom as my heart pounds in my chest at every sound I hear. And here, I am hoping. Hoping that no one else needs the bathroom. Hoping that these five minutes stop feeling like hours.

Just as I thought I would have a straight up mental breakdown, my phone lights up again. “Here”. That single word brought me all the relief I needed. My legs feel like they could collapse out from under me. I open the bathroom door tenderly, I look left and right as though I am crossing a road. But in all honesty a busy road would have been safer. I hurry down the hall towards the main dining area.

The dining room is filled with people dressed in finery. Women had pearl necklaces ,gold and silver jewelry that sparkled in the light of the candles that sat on each table. Men wore suits and expensive watches. They sat around their tables laughing and drinking whatever expensive alcohol they enjoyed. I scan the room and my eyes lock onto the table where everyone still sits. The sight is like a knife being twisted in my heart. Brandon is holding Miracle close to his chest, as though she had always belonged there. 

And in this place, she did look like she belonged there. With her blonde curled hair, diamond earrings, and midnight blue dress that touched the floor. I knew that on her feet were high heels from Louis Vuitton. She looked every inch like a person who would go to a high dining establishment like this. Then there was him. In his suit wearing the watch I saved up to get him. I should have left. But I could not stop staring at them. Then he stood up. I panicked thinking that they were leaving and would see me standing here. But no, I think that would be better than what I was seeing. Of the pain I am feeling as he started to get down on one knee.

No. NO! This is not happening. The man I love and have spent five years with cannot be proposing to my younger sister. Why? Why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong? And why in the fuck is it always because of her. She is not special. She has no talent or skill out of the ordinary. She is not even that attractive. As far as looks, there are far more girls that look better than her and many more that look, act, and dress like her. 

The tears come before I can stop them. I wipe them away and they keep on coming. My phone buzzes “You coming, he's waiting on you”. I am taken out of my pain for the time being and I sent a quick text back. I head toward the entrance of the restaurant. I look back one last time, at their smiles and the waiters congratulating them. But I force myself to move forward, because I have to.