Chapter 2
1111 Words
Matt's POV
He hated expensive restaurants.
Because they made him aware of everything he wasn’t.
The glasses looked too delicate in his hands.
The waiters spoke with polished smiles and perfect posture. Even the air smelled expensive somehow, clean in a way he could never explain.
And tonight, surrounded by people congratulating us, all he could think about was whether he truly belonged here. Whether he deserved to stand at her side, be a part of her world.
“Congratulations again!”
I looked up as another one of her mother’s friends approached our table with a bright smile that did nothing to hide her thoughts about this marriage or more accurately about me.
She hugged her first.
“Oh, darling, your ring is gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Olivia replied happily, holding her hand out.
I couldn’t stop staring at her smile. She looked so happy.
For a second, it quieted everything else in my head.
Then the woman turned to me.
“It must have cost a lot of money right, how did you manage to afford it?" she commented mockingly.
I had nothing to say, I could just smile watching as she disappeared into the crowd.
Shortly after, a young man approached me and put his hand on my shoulder, shaking his head as he left.
My fiancée leaned closer immediately. “Ignore them.” I forced a small smile.
“I wasn’t thinking about it.” “That’s a lie.” I laughed softly under my breath.
Five years together and she could still read me too easily.
“I’m okay,” I said.
She studied me for another second before sighing dramatically. “You know, one day you’ll learn that not everyone’s opinion matters."
Easy for her to say.
She’d grown up in a world where confidence came naturally. Where people opened doors for her before she even reached them. Where she never had to wonder if she belonged or was worthy enough to stand in a room.
I grew up counting coins before entering a*****e.
There was a difference.
A difference I felt every single time I stood beside her.
“Come with me,” she suddenly said.
“What?”
She grabbed my hand before I could protest, pulling me up from the table.
“Dance with me.”
I looked toward the center of the restaurant where a few couples were already moving slowly to the soft music playing overhead. “You want to dance here?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t dance.”
“You survived proposing in public. You can survive this.”
I groaned quietly as she dragged me toward the floor anyway.
The moment her hand settled on my shoulder and mine wrapped around her waist, my heartbeat became embarrassingly loud.
She looked up at me with amusement sparkling in her eyes.
“You’re tense.”
“Because everyone is watching.”
“No one is watching.”
Three people were definitely watching. I lowered my voice.
“Your uncle has been staring at me for ten minutes.”
“That’s just his face.”
I almost laughed.
Almost.
But then I noticed her family gathered near the far side of the room.
Her mother.
Two aunties.
An older cousin.
Watching us.
Not smiling.
Just observing.
I suddenly became hyper aware of my hands on her waist, the cheaper fabric of my suit, the fact that I’d spent almost two months planning this proposal while men in her family probably spent more than that on wristwatches.
“You disappeared again,” she murmured softly.
“Hm?”
“That thing you do.” Her voice gentled. “Where you leave me and start thinking too much.”
I tried smiling.
Failed.
Her expression shifted slightly then, concern replacing teasing.
“What’s wrong?”
I hesitated.
How could I explain this feeling without sounding weak?
How could I tell her that loving her sometimes felt like standing in front of a beautiful house while wondering if everyone inside knew you didn’t belong there?
“You ever think,” I said slowly, “that maybe your family expected someone different for you?”
Her brows pulled together immediately.
“I don’t care what my family expected.”
“But they do.”
“They’ll live.” she said nonchalantly.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Her face fell slightly.
Regret hit me instantly.
I exhaled quietly.“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
The music continued around us while silence settled between us.
I hated that silence.
Because she was upset.
And it was my fault.
“I love you,” she said softly, like it should’ve solved everything.
And maybe for her, it did.
But for me, love had never erased fear or stopped people's judgemental stares.
I’d spent most of my life learning that people only left useful things around them if they brought value.
And what value did I bring her?
What happened years from now if she realized she’d sacrificed too much just to be with me?
What happened if one day she woke up and understood she could’ve had someone better?
The thought terrified me more than I wanted to admit.
“You’re thinking again,” she whispered.
I looked down at her. Beautiful.
Warm.
Confident.
Everything I wasn’t.
And suddenly, something settled painfully inside my chest.
I couldn’t keep being the man people pitied her for loving.
I wouldn’t.
Not after tonight.
Not after seeing those looks again.
Not after hearing the subtle comments people thought I didn’t notice.
Very lucky.
Like I’d somehow won her.
Like she was a prize I couldn’t possibly deserve.
My jaw tightened slightly.
No.
One day they’d see it.
One day I’d become successful enough, powerful enough, stable enough that nobody would ever question my place beside her again.
I would work until my hands bled if I had to.
I would build something so undeniable nobody could look down on me anymore. And if that was what it took to deserve being at her side….
Then that was exactly what I would do.
She touched my face gently, pulling me back into the moment.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked softly.
I looked at her for a long second before forcing a smile.
“Nothing.”
It was my first lie as her fiancé.
And unfortunately, not my last.
People consumed by their own insecurities always end up so lost in them that they end up making people around them feel trapped.
- Writer
