3.
1589 Words
Yvette
That night still haunted me.
I hadn’t slept peacefully without having flashes in weeks. It came with heartbreak and a kind of pain I didn't know existed.
I dreaded each passing day. But, I dreaded this moment more.
My hand trembled when I glanced at the stick in my hand.
Two pink lines.
My fingers went numb.
For a moment there, nothing moved, except my heartbeat, and that of the child inside me.
The lines staring back at me were proof of how the closest people to me had let me down.
Yet, looking at these lines, my lips trembled into a smile.
I was thrilled and terrified at the same time.
What would I do with a child of my own at twenty-two?
Could I take care of her?
“Her?” I scoffed at the mere thought that I wanted a girl already.
Despite my fears, despite the circumstances that led to her, I knew, I would never get rid of her.
I would live my whole life out apologizing to her. I would make sure she became the best thing out of the worst thing that ever happened to me.
It wouldn’t be easy, but it was a purpose I was willing to fulfil or die trying.
As if that was all the motivation I needed, I silently packed up all I had into a luggage and said my last goodbye to the house that was my home for ten years.
The Benjamins were still in Hawaii following Kai’s destination wedding.
No one even cared to call and ask why I wasn't there. Not even Mrs Benjamin, my mom’s best friend. And that was okay. I was no longer twelve.
I was twenty-two and about to be a mother.
****+****
Rosehill.
The city that raised my mom.
The outskirts seemed like the best place to settle.
Jan and I needed safety, and also privacy.
It was one hour away from the heart of the city but at least, there were fewer nosy neighbors and definitely no friends to ask about her father.
“Why don’t you just move closer to town, Yvette? It’s Christmas and we’re swamped with work! Can you do this for the rest of the holidays? Why do you always have to make me complain so much?”
Working as an event planner and an interior decorator had its ups and downs. Especially during the holidays.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry everyone. I’m here now… what’s left to do?”
“We have to redecorate the aisle for the couple,” Danielle replied, “The bride-to-be insists.”
“But we gave her exactly what she wanted. “Look,” I shared my screen with Danielle. The picture displayed had a striking resemblance to the one in the hall.
“What does she need changed?”
“Are you the one in charge?” A voice from behind us echoed in the air. We turned around and came face to face with a woman so elegant, you could smell her wealth from a distance.
Danielle and I exchanged glances. I knew women like this intimidated Danielle so I stepped up.
“Yes, I am. Good morning ma’am,” I said extending a handshake.
She looked at my hand with disgust and then continued. “My fiancé doesn’t like blue, bring this down. I want him to be comfortable.”
“I understand that ma’am, but you chose an ocean theme. And blue is the color of the ocean.”
She scoffed wryly. “This is why I never opt for small companies. You act like you know everything when you lack exposure.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but there was no need to argue. Some clients were like that, and after the morning rush I just had with Jan, I needed to reserve my energy.
“What color would you like then ma’am? We’ll do just that.”
“I don’t know… You figure it out. I don’t care how you do it. But I want this hall ready by 6pm. Get to work!” She waved her manicured nails in the air as she walked away.
“Except we only redecorate the aisle, we couldn't possibly make it before 6pm.”
“We can’t redecorate only the aisle, Danielle. Everything must change.”
“And how exactly do we do that? I say we refund her, and bounce!”
In our small team of five, I was the rational one and Danielle was the one with a blunt mouth.
But I knew clients like this, it didn’t just end with refunding their money, they had the spite to badmouth our company and stop other clients from ever coming back. And I needed the money more than anything else. Especially now that Jan was getting into school.
“The ocean can also be turquoise,” I said enthusiastically, “Like the Maldives or… or the Greek Islands! Let’s make it work, Danielle. Let’s not give up now.”
“The Greek Islands, it is.”
We set to work immediately.
Each member of our tiny team picked a section of the hall and ran with it — drapes, lights, florals, centerpieces. It was chaos, but the kind of chaos we understood. The kind that made sense.
By 4:30 p.m., we were about seventy percent done. My arms ached, my back was screaming, and I probably smelled like sweat mixed with cheap glue, but I didn’t care.
The hall was transforming.
By 5:30, we were adding final touches — soft lights, floating candles, and a shimmering turquoise aisle that could melt hearts.
It was too beautiful for the kind of bride we were dealing with.
For a moment, just a moment, I allowed myself to breathe it all in.
It was dreamy enough that it made my decision to never attempt love again tremble a little.
Just a little.
At 6:00 p.m., on the dot, the doors opened. First came the vendors, then the photographers, then the towering engagement cake that cost more than three months of my salary.
And then, finally—
The bride-to-be.
She was gorgeous in her red dress and I could only imagine how beautiful she’d look sitting up there with her fiancé.
Lucky people. I thought.
She stepped in, and looked around.
I couldn’t wait for her to see the aisle. But as soon as she reached, her face twisted like she was smelling rot.
“What. The f**k. Is. This?”
“Good evening, ma’am—” I joined her by the door.
“Are you trying to ruin my engagement party?” she screeched in high-pitch. “What sort of ugly color is this? I clearly told you anything but blue and turquoise? Are you daft or something?”
“Ma’am, you said you didn’t want—”
“Are you talking back at me?” she barked, loud enough to turn heads. “You useless, untrained, pathetic little decorator—”
“Ma’am—”
“You should be fired,” she snapped at Danielle. “Both of you! Trash! Absolute trash—”
“Ma’am,” I interjected calmly but firmly, “we will not tolerate you calling us names. You wanted an ocean theme but not blue. So we chose the next realistic color.”
Her heels struck like weapons as she marched toward me. “Are you out of your mind? On what planet would anyone choose this disgusting color?”
“But that’s the color of the ocean,” Daniel chimed.
She shoved her and advanced toward me. The guests who had arrived early were already whispering. Phones were out.
Perfect — a public humiliation. Just what I needed.
“I paid you to deliver perfection,” she spat, “and instead you give me this nonsense?”
“I asked you for a specific color but you refused to…”
She took a step closer, anger twisting her features.
For a second, I thought she’d scream.
But then, she raised her hand.
She actually raised her hand and I froze.
Everything inside me froze.
I waited but the slap didn’t land.
Her hands landed on my chest instead, she shoved me, aggressively.
I stumbled backward. She charged at me again. And again. Yelling as she kept shoving me.
My patience slipped.
My hands curled as I raised them.
One shove.
To hell with a shove! I pushed her!
She stumbled backward too.
Then stopped and looked at me like all hell at let loose.
I didn’t see the hand coming, I only heard the sound. And the sting. On my cheek.
Just as hot as I felt, I raised my hand to return the slap but someone stopped me.
Strong arms. Firm grip. He growled behind me. “You’ll not touch her.”
My heart stopped.
That voice.
God.
I would know even if I were deaf.
It sliced clean through my spine making me shiver in despair.
I didn’t want to look up.
I didn’t want to.
But some things are inevitable.
Painfully, I lifted my gaze.
And there he was.
Zachary Benjamin.
The devil in a tailored black suit.
Tall, and handsome. Time had aged him in all the right ways.
His stormy brown eyes locked in mine and the noise in the hall dimmed.
Five years of buried memories, five years of wounds I had stitched shut. Five years of silence and somehow we were standing before each other.
He exploded.
“Yetti?”
- Writer
