Dear Diary, page 12
I swiped away tears with the sleeve of my shirt. It was refreshing to see that Clara still had a way of making my heart thump at a regular rhythm from the sound of her voice alone. “Do you really mean that?” I asked.
Clara nodded and squeezed me. I wondered if she would still feel the same way once she saw me in my wedding dress. Without question, the dress wouldn’t be what anyone expected, especially my soon-to-be mother-in-law.
Mrs. Sanders had reached out to me a couple of times, trying to figure out why I hadn’t taken the dress to her friend for alterations.
“I used my mother’s sister to feel like my mother was involved,” I lied. My mother didn’t have a sister.
I had stumbled upon the lifesaving boutique after it was featured on the news as one of the top spots to visit for one-of-a-kind garments. My dress certainly fit that. Initially, I just wanted the owner and seamstress, Zena, to make the necessary changes to what I was expected to wear. I didn’t know if it was the bleak look on my face, or my hesitancy to put the dress on as she requested, that caused her to offer some sound advice.
Through a heavy Puerto Rican accent, she said, “Every bride’s gown should express their own style and personality, not someone else’s. No matter how much I alter this, it will never represent you if this is not what you want.” She walked away, leaving me to reflect on her statement.
“How did you know I wasn’t happy?” I asked.
“I didn’t get featured in the most popular bridal magazine for nothing, honey.” She winked.
I instantly fell in love with Zena and her sassiness. From that point on, she and I worked together to sketch the perfect representation of me, and I couldn’t wait to show it off.
Entry 20
Dear Diary:
Honoring Michael’s wishes became my top priority despite wanting to call off the wedding with each passing day. The constant feelings of revenge conquered my lack of willpower to make it down the aisle. Ever since Myles forced me to get that injection, the warm and fuzzy feelings for him had faded. I wondered if he’d marry me and adopt a controlling spirit and an “I’m the king of this castle” mentality. Sometimes just the sight of him made me sick to my stomach. I played my part, though. Most days were unbearable, but I remembered when I would people watch. I started to channel the many different characters. Soon I became a lead actress in a movie written and directed by my brother. In Myles’s face, I was the love of his life who he couldn’t wait to marry. Behind his back, I was the one who he’d regret hurting.
“Follow through.” I reminded myself of Michael’s words while reluctantly preparing for the pre-wedding celebration. I didn’t necessarily consider it an engagement party because it was so close to the wedding.
Mrs. Sanders had the nerve to have a swanky invitation requesting our presence at the Ritz-Carlton delivered to us by a local well-known R&B singer, who sang a rendition of Anita Baker’s “Sweet Love.” An invitation to our own celebration. That was one of the reasons I didn’t want her help. Too much. If she wasn’t in the mix, she felt a need to try to upstage me. The more Myles gloated over what his mom and sister had done, the more I wanted to puke.
“Babe, Sheila just sent a text. The car will be arriving in five.”
It took us a lot longer than five minutes to make it downstairs. Well, mainly me. A part of me hoped that everyone would have grown tired of waiting and left by the time we made it to the party.
“How much longer?” Myles asked again. “Sheila keeps texting me because we haven’t made it yet.”
“You can go on without me,” I said.
Myles looked at me like I was stupid. “That doesn’t make any sense. Can you hurry up, please?”
I growled under my breath. I hated being rushed, and I hated being told to hurry up. I didn’t ask for this celebration, and my time was just as valuable as theirs.
Almost an hour later, I was finally ready.
The limo driver stood outside the car, waiting patiently. He seemed unbothered by our tardiness. He smiled and opened the door for us. “Good evening, Mr. and soon-to-be Mrs. Sanders.”
“‘Mrs. Sanders’ has a nice ring to it,” Myles gushed.
I wasn’t so sure I liked being called that. His mother had that name, and I wasn’t sure I liked her right now.
Behind my practiced smile was disgust. And I wore that disgust for the entire car ride. If I could have communicated with the limo driver the same way I communicated with Michael, I would have told him to speed up. I couldn’t wait to get out of this car. I didn’t want to get to the party any faster, either. I just wanted to get away from Myles and the sound of his voice.
“Are you okay?” Myles asked. “You don’t seem happy, and you haven’t said much.”
I started to tell him that I was under the weather, but I didn’t bother. “I’m just tired.”
I cringed when Myles stroked my hand. “I bet you are tired with all the wedding planning. You have done an excellent job, by the way.”
What Myles saw as tiredness was true, but it was from withdrawals. Little did he know, despite getting my injection, which I had no control over, I was no longer taking my oral meds.
Thankfully, we had pulled up in front of the Ritz, and I didn’t have to listen to any more questions from Myles. Alex Trebek asked fewer of them, and he was a whole game show host. Being pent-up in such a small space with Myles any longer would have made me lose my mind on top of already losing my mind.
I wished the entrance of the hotel was on my side so I could get out faster. But it was on Myles’s side. Before the driver opened the door to let us out, Myles leaned over and planted a sloppy kiss on me. Was it sloppy, or was that how I perceived it because I didn’t want that attention from him? I wiped the kiss off and noticed Myles hang his head. I just knew an argument was about to start. Nonetheless, he remained a gentleman. He stepped out of the car and reached for my hand to help me out. I hesitated at first. If I grabbed his hand, would I cringe again? Would that, too, be noticeable?
This is only temporary discomfort. Remember the bigger picture. I repeated that in my head a few times before grabbing Myles’s hand and exiting the car.
As we walked inside, Myles said, “I don’t know if it’s the crowd, but I can tell you’re uncomfortable. We can speak and leave if that will make you feel better. I just don’t want to upset my mother with all the hard work she and my sister put into this.”
Of course he didn’t want to upset his mother. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t Eva but a character in a movie. “Action,” I whispered to myself and did what I usually would do—pretend.
The venue was decorated more like an actual wedding reception than an engagement party. I must say, Mrs. Sanders and Sheila went all out for us. Pure elegance. Candles dimly lit the room. White orchids sat on the thick white linen blanketing the round tables. Even the guests had dressed in white. Myles and I were the only oddballs.
“We didn’t get the all-white memo,” he said to his mom as he leaned in to hug her.
She released her embrace from Myles and grabbed his hand and mine. “It wasn’t intended for the two of you to wear white. I wanted y’all to stand out, to be the center of attention, if you will.” She glanced at me. “So what do you think?”
“Breathtaking,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
Mrs. Sanders seemed happy that she got praise from me and everyone else. It was a beautiful setup, but I was ready to go.
I scanned the room, taking in all the details, and that was when I noticed Sabrina Davis. I was sure it was Mrs. Sanders who thought it would be a good idea to invite Myles’s ex-fiancé to our engagement party. She stood out not only because she was a few feet away, waiting to approach Myles, but this heifer was the only guest who wore something other than white. Her revealing yellow dress, which barely covered her nipples, had everyone staring, including me. The ruby red form-fitting dress that hugged what little curves I had attached to my size-six frame was nothing compared to her build. She looked like a video vixen with the perfect waist-to-hip ratio. And don’t get me started on her hair. Her mane was so silky, and from where I stood, it looked like it was as soft as a bag of feathers.
My hair was naturally curly and pulled up into a messy bun as usual. After seeing how well Sabrina was put together, I wished I would’ve taken Myles up on his offer of sending me in for a makeover. Instead, I became offended, thinking he thought I wasn’t pretty enough.
My eyes shifted to Myles. I needed to see his reaction when he noticed her. Would he stare? Would lust overtake him? Would he want her back? I mean, he was engaged to the woman at one point. The old shoebox that I found stored in his closet held photos of them, and they seemed so happy. He still loved her. He had to. Why else would he have kept the pictures? Maybe he secretly yearned for her to come back to him. They only called off the engagement because Sabrina decided to pursue her passion for missionary work in Africa.
“Hey, bighead,” Sabrina said. Their embrace seemed never-ending.
The moment I cleared my throat, I became visible to them.
There was condensation on Myles’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said. He grabbed my hand and introduced me. “This is my fiancée, Eva.”
Sabrina smiled and then hugged me. My hands remained at my sides. I wondered if Myles had been with her when I was in the hospital.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you finally,” Sabrina said to me. She then looked at Myles, gave him a double nudge, and said, “You did good.”
“Yes, she is a dream come true,” Myles said.
Did he really mean that? After everything I had put him through? I bet Sabrina never left physical scars. I bet Sabrina didn’t have to take medication to fit in.
The gathering was supposed to be about me, and Sabrina managed to outshine me in every aspect. The Sanders family seemed more thrilled to see her than me. I wondered if they hoped that Myles and Sabrina got back together. I wondered if this was the reason she was here. Were they trying to force me out? Persuade him to leave me?
I’d had enough of the reminiscing between Myles, Sabrina, and the other Sanderses. I grabbed his hand and forcefully escorted him to the patio.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Why is she here?” I hissed. “Why did she wear yellow when I’m sure she was told to wear white?”
“What’s the big deal?”
“Seriously, Myles. Why would your mom invite her?”
“You would have to ask my mother. I don’t see what the harm is.”
“I don’t want her here. She has to go.”
Myles frowned and threw his hands out to his sides. “Come on, babe,” he said and reached for my hand. “It would be rude to make her leave. She’s not hurting anyone by being here.”
“She’s hurting me. Do you want to be with her or something?” I asked.
The wrinkles in Myles’s forehead deepened. “What? Where is that coming from?”
I inched closer to him, ready to slap the stupid out of him. “Do you want to be with her or not?”
He puckered his lips. “Be for real, Eva.”
“You tell the truth, Myles.”
Myles massaged his temples. “Eva, please, can we just enjoy the night? Can you just pretend she is not here if her presence bothers you so much?”
“You have a problem pretending. You’ve carried on a conversation with her longer than you have with me, or anyone else for that matter.”
He threw his hands in the air. “What do you want me to do?” he asked as if I hadn’t already given him a solution to the problem.
“She needs to go.” I folded my arms across my chest and shifted all my weight to one foot.
Myles shook his head in disbelief and walked inside, leaving me alone. I didn’t mind being by myself. I needed some advice from my brother anyway.
“Michael, can you hear me?” I waited for a response. Moments passed before I called out to him again. “Michael, if you can hear me, please say something.”
Suddenly, footsteps approached from the walkway opposite the patio. My heart fluttered, thinking I’d actually get to see my brother after all these years. He never revealed himself to me because, according to him, the car accident left him disfigured and he didn’t want me to see him that way.
“Michael, is that you?” I asked. “We need to change the plan.”
The steps got closer.
I tried peering around the bushes that lined the walkway, but it was too dark.
“Michael, is that you?” I whispered.
“No, it’s just me, Sabrina.”
Luckily, the globe lights strung from one side to the other didn’t produce enough light for Sabrina to notice my quivering body. “How long have you been standing there?” I hoped she didn’t detect the nervous cracking in my voice.
“Long enough. Who is Michael, and what’s the plan?”
Suddenly offended that she had the audacity to question me, I snapped, “None of your business. You need to leave.”
She laughed. “I’m not going anywhere. I was invited.” Her hands rested on her hips while she tapped her shoe against the cobblestone-covered patio, demanding an answer.
This chick had come into my celebration, hogged the attention, and demanded answers from me. I was not going to allow her to continue to control me or this situation.
“Well, I don’t want you here, and I am about to make sure the Sanderses know it, too.” I pivoted and started my march inside. Sabrina was hot on my heels. I turned around and blocked the door. “Is there something I can help you with?” I asked.
“In fact, there is,” she said. “You can start by telling me your motives. Who is Michael to you, and what’s the plan?”
“Why is it any of your business?”
“It’s my business because—”
“Because what? Do you want Myles back? Because if you do, it won’t happen. He’s with me now, so deal with it.” I waved my sparkling diamond ring around to make sure she understood that I had him and unless I let him go, she didn’t stand a chance.
We stared one another down. Sabrina got bold and took a step toward me, and I took a few toward her. She should’ve asked Myles what I was capable of.
“Does Myles know about Michael?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation. Since you want to know so bad, Michael is my married lover,” I lied with motives.
She smirked and stepped back. “We will see how the Sanderses feel about Michael.”
She took the bait. Her stilettos clicked the ground at a rapid pace as she marched inside. I peered through the doors of the patio. Sabrina did just what I expected. She walked right up to them in hopes of destroying my relationship with her ex. There was nothing I needed to do. She was about to get rid of herself as soon as she made the crazy accusation that I was having an affair with my brother.
How convenient for Miss Thang. Except for Myles, the Sanderses were all together, posing for a picture. I wished I could read her black-painted lips that moved at a high rate of speed. It would have at least given me a head start on my next move. I crossed my fingers, hoping they’d remove her from the party once they heard her ridiculous version of who she thought Michael was to me. From what I could see, they seemed to take no interest in what she had to say.
Sabrina disappeared for a moment, but then she reemerged in front of me. The only thing that separated us was the glass patio door.
I smiled at her and hurled some insults her way. “How did that work out for you, you stupid home-wrecker slut?” I didn’t know whether she heard them. It just felt good to get them out.
She forced her way onto the patio, waving her hands around, upset. Whatever she said was muffled and irrelevant.
“You can say whatever you want to say, Sabrina. The Sanderses will never believe you anyway.”
“Sabrina?” Myles said from behind me.
I was so engaged with his ex that I didn’t hear Myles approaching.
I turned to Myles. “You hear her disrespecting me? She needs to leave.”
Tears poured from Myles’s eyes. “I think we’ve had enough for the night.” His voice cracked.
I had to have the last word. “You heard my man. You need to leave.” He didn’t exactly say those words, but that was what needed to happen. It should have happened a long time ago. She should have never been invited in the first place.
Myles extended his hand and said, “Come on, Eva, we are leaving.”
He chose me. I turned back to Sabrina to make sure she understood once and for all, but she was gone.
“Come on, Eva.” Myles’s voice was soft, and tears still ran from their home.
“Why are we leaving?” I asked, confused. “She was the one trying to ruin our engagement celebration.”
“Let’s just go,” he said, motioning me to take his hand. “We can talk in the car.”
“Okay. Let me tell everyone bye.”
“We will thank them later. Let’s just go.”
That was fine by me. I didn’t necessarily want to talk to anyone, but it was the polite thing to do.
Myles and I held hands and walked around the building to his sister’s two-seater convertible Jag. “We aren’t going back in the limo?” I questioned.
“Nah. The limo is going to take Sheila home,” Myles answered.
Myles was never this quiet unless something bothered him. I assumed it was the altercation with Sabrina, so I tried making small talk with him so he’d know that I wasn’t upset with him. “Did you enjoy the party?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Look, I’m not mad about Sabrina. But I think you should talk with your mother. She overstepped.”
Myles heavily sighed. “When was the last time you took your medicine?”
Typical. He tried to make the situation about me and my illness, which upset me. “What does that have to do with anything? Your primary concern should be the way Sabrina acted toward me.”
“Okay, Eva.”
“Are you still seeing her?”
No response.
“I know you hear me talking to you, Myles Sanders.”
