Imela Barau’s POV
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Blink.
Repeat.
All the coping lessons I gave myself for thirty minutes while we drove over here had suddenly become useless, as none of them were helping me face the beat of the drum. My heart hammered against my chest, and sweat trickled down my face as I bit down on my lower lip, waiting for the reaction of the speechless family at the dinner table to the news.
“You asked her to marry you?” Ivory Plane, Oliver’s mother, exclaimed as her green eyes darted between us in horror, as if those words were the worst thing she had ever heard. Her complete disapproval bore itself in her poised, high-pitched voice.
Oliver Plane dropped the bomb a minute ago. It was the news of our engagement at the dinner table, and a minute of silence passed with the gazes of the other four Planes at the table darting between us.
“I am very sure that is what I just said a minute ago, Mom.” Oliver, who hadn’t picked up all the cues his mother had laid since he stepped into the house hand in hand with me, asked.
I stayed still in my seat, like one drenched in cold, dirty water, unable to blink or even breathe, when Ivory’s murderous gaze swept over to me. I always pictured myself dying at a ripe old age, but seated here and now, I felt my death wasn’t so far away.
I wasn’t poorly dressed. I wore a red asymmetrical dress which Elena, my grandma, bought me on my 21st birthday four months ago after saving up for five months. It was lovely, and I reserved it to be worn only on special occasions like tonight. Ivory’s eyes, however, made me feel like I wore filth from my head down to my toe as her disgust-filled eyes raked over me.
My hands tightened around my cutlery because we had barely finished eating when Oliver dropped the news of our engagement on them, probably hoping for a better reaction than the one he was currently receiving.
Ivory had asked who I was, wanting to chit-chat despite the disdain and obvious resentment she bore for my presence, and Oliver introduced me to them as his fiancée.
When Oliver Plane asked me to marry him, I only thought about spending forever with the man I love and growing together to a ripe old age. I didn’t think too far into the reality of what that meant, and that was my error. This, right here, is what it meant.
“Congratulations, brother,” Nina said happily, and she was the first on the table to show a genuine reaction. She was Oliver’s younger sister of three years, who was studying at Harvard Law. The nineteen-year-old rose from her seat and gave him a warm hug in a show of support.
If looks could kill, Ivory Plane would have murdered her youngest child at that very moment.
“Thank you,” Oliver said with a radiant smile, and Nina’s green eyes dimmed as she returned his smile.
“Congratulations?” Ivory scoffed, and this turned the two siblings’ attention to her. “This is madness! He is literally throwing his life away, and on whom? Her?” Her cold, burning gaze once again seized me from head down to my finger, and her cheeks turned red from visible rage.
“You are being dramatic, Mom, as always.” Nina brushed it off casually.
Oh, it was nice that one out of the four Planes that heard the news was all welcoming. Two against three wasn’t a very hopeful look.
I never thought I would be one to turn a family against themselves, but here I was, doing a fine job at that.
Ivory once again looks so close to murdering her child. “Stop talking, Nina, for your own sake.” She said it gracefully, even though her eyes warned the girl that she was this close to meeting a cruel fate if she kept talking.
Nina scoffed and reluctantly returned to her seat.
My hands on the table trembled, and I withdrew them and placed them on my lap where no one would see them.
Oliver noticed because he reached out, placed his hand tenderly on mine, and squeezed on it. “In what way am I throwing my life away? What is wrong with Imela?” Oliver demanded.
Ivory threw her hands up as if the answer to the question was so obvious to anyone looking. “What do you know about her? What does her mother do? Who is her father? What does he do? These are the things you took into consideration before—”
“Before what?” Oliver challenged with a raised brow, not letting her finish. His voice was becoming rigid, and I knew he was close to losing control. “Before falling in love and wanting to spend the rest of my life with someone? What do her father and mother have to do with the fact that I love her?” He adjusted the blue tie he had on and undid the few top buttons of his white inner shirt.
I could tell he wanted to get out of this three-piece suit.
“Son, marriage is a serious commitment, not just something you run into because you feel like it.” Robert Plane spoke up for the first time since his son dropped the bomb on them.
With his line of speech, it showed he was choosing his wife’s side and not Oliver’s.
The odds weren’t in our favour.
“Of course not, Dad; I am supposed to treat it like a business transaction like you and Mom have for thirty years, hating who you married and wishing nothing but death upon them, but staying married because it is good for business.” He answered.
Robert slammed his hand against the table, startling everyone seated. “Enough!”
“You will speak to your father and me with respect.” Ivory snapped, turning her fury on Oliver.
Oliver looked anything but ready to do as he was told. “You have shown little to no respect to Imela since she got here, and you do not even know her.”
Ivory’s attention, once again, moved to me, and they became as hard as rocks. Her green eyes pierced into me as if they could see my soul.
Her gaze darkened, and anger flared in her eyes. “I do not need to know her to know her type. She’s a gold digger, a manipulator, one who sees a boy from a wealthy family and lashes onto him for as long as she can. She is the kind that will take all that she can from him before leaving him for dead.” Ivory poured out on me, her tone brittle with annoyance.
Silence once again engulfed everyone, and the only noise heard was a clock hanging on the wall in the living room.
I gasped, and a tear dropped. I felt a stab in my chest, unable to bear her crude words.
Nina glanced at me with a pitiful look on her face and said, “If I were you, I’d get as far from this cursed family as possible; we ruin everything we touch and try to love.” She advised, and there was no sarcasm in her tone.
Oliver threw the serviette down on the table, rose to his feet, and turned his attention to me. “I am sorry you had to sit through this hell called dinner. I will not keep you anymore and burden you with this madness.” He offered me his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Oliver, do not walk out on us; this dinner isn’t over,” Robert said in a commanding tone.
“It is for me and my fiancée.” He replied, not breaking his gaze on me.
I took his hand, and I felt much strength return to my legs as he pulled me up.
He wrapped his arms protectively around me as soon as I fully rose, and without looking back at those still seated at the table, he led me away from the hell called dinner.
