For the Camera

18. Prove it.

RUBY.

The impending rain made its presence known through the rumbling thunder and flashes of lightning. Peering out of the large window in my room, I observed menacing, dark clouds gathering ominously overhead. I resisted the urge to dive under my covers and wrap myself in my duvet out of fear. Thunderstorms terrified me; they gave off an eerie vibe and always seemed to herald something dreadful.

Thunder had echoed through the night when my mother tragically took her own life. It was also present when my dad revealed his plan to bring Lola and Sapphire into our lives. It felt like a constant presence, mocking me and insinuating that my existence was nothing more than a cruel joke for others' amusement. I despised thunderstorms, yet I remained afraid of them. The fear would forever linger within me.

Suddenly, I heard the main door open, but there were no accompanying footsteps. The night grew more intimidating, but I summoned the courage to leave the couch I was sitting on. Grasping the nearest object, I cautiously ventured out of my room. With a fighting stance, I tiptoed across the spacious living room, treating my makeshift weapon as if it would help me overpower the intruder. The atmosphere hung heavy with silence until a glass fell and shattered on the floor, causing me to scream.

"What are you doing?"

I recognized the deep voice instantly. It was Toby.

"Why are you acting like a frightened mouse in your own home? I could have accidentally hurt you!" I exclaimed, lowering my weapon.

He stared at me as if I were insane, glancing back and forth between my face and the so-called weapon.

"Hurt me? Seriously? With a book? Come on, Ruby. No one gets hurt by being hit with a book."

"Whatever! Just make sure to announce your arrival as loudly as possible, rather than sneaking in like an assassin," I half-shouted.

Silence enveloped us. Toby remained silent, his gaze fixed on me with an expression I struggled to decipher. I glanced down at myself and noticed that my nightwear had exposed my cowgirl-print panties, and I had experienced a wardrobe malfunction. Hastily covering up, I tried to retreat to my room, only to be blocked by him.

I attempted again, but he repeated the action.

Silence gnawed at my insides, making words suddenly evade me. He continued to stare, and I found myself unable to do anything but gaze at the door behind him. The silence felt like an overwhelming void, begging to be filled with sound, with words, with anything. It seeped into every pore, poisoning us, rendering us speechless and immobile.

After what felt like an eternity of this unnatural staring contest, I finally regained my voice, although it emerged as a whisper. "I would like to go to bed, and you're in my way."

"I know," he replied.

Attempting to conceal my confusion about the entire situation, I made another attempt to leave, but this time I collided with him. Frustration welled up within me. "Get out of the way, Toby!" I snapped, and at last, he allowed me to pass.

Before leaving, I turned back to face him. "Why do you constantly enjoy getting on my nerves, Toby? Why do you hate me so much? Is it still about my appearance? I'm not as overweight as I was in high school. Your bullying led me to start dieting, so what's your problem? Why do you keep tormenting me? Why?" I poured out my questions, hoping for a moment of genuine conversation.

"Ruby, you are my problem. You are! You took away my freedom and denied me the chance to have any control over you, even when you had the power to refuse. The ball was in your court, but you chose to hold onto it instead of throwing it away. That's why I hate you," he calmly replied, though the venom in his words was unmistakable.

"Oh, please, Toby! Stop acting like you're some kind of prize! I don't want to be married to you either! If you didn't have a choice, what makes you think I did? I had my reasons for doing what I did. I despise this life, being constantly in the public eye, pretending for the cameras and following scripted nonsense. And I certainly don't give a damn about you, not anymore. You're confusing the high school Ruby with the person I am now. Sure, I may still be a pushover and a timid girl, but I'm no longer willing to accept whatever is thrown at me. So man up and stop acting like a child!" I snapped, my voice escalating with each point I made. Toby stared at me wide-eyed, seemingly unable to believe the words coming out of my mouth. Well, I was surprised myself.

"You feel the same way I do, don't you? You don't want this marriage either, right? Then prove it!" he suddenly exclaimed, leaving me puzzled.

"What? What do you mean by that?" I asked.

He took a good look at me and stepped closer, almost as if he was about to kiss me.

"Ruby, simply prove that you hate me too and don't want this pointless marriage by filing for a divorce," he said.

"What? It hasn't even been two months yet," I responded.

"And so what? We have couples who break up mere hours after their wedding. Who cares? I don't like you, I don't want you, and you feel the same way. I can't do it because my dad has control over me, but you? What does your family have over you? Nothing. You chose to marry me, so now the ball is in your court once again. Divorce me. I'll deal with whatever backlash my dad throws at me, and within a month, the press will forget about the stupid divorce, and so will my dad. Just do it," he insisted.

I stared directly into his eyes, shocked by his determination. "And what if I don't want to?" I challenged, standing my ground.

"Oh, Ruby, all I can say is welcome to hell, dear wife. I'm your host, and you?" he mockingly extended his right hand for a fake handshake.