Chapter 16

"All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them."

Walt Disney.

Regret falls upon my shoulders and a dark-grey clouds hangs above my head. Her eyes pierce through me, her hatred surrounds me, her unsaid, bitter words charge at me like an army. They wield their spears and daggers, disappointment at the edge of every blade. My breathing becomes uneven, a sign that the familiar feeling of being put in my place has arisen, reminding me of how stupid, selfish and naive I am in expecting some type of happiness.

Mother tuts, shaking her head. Frowning, she sends me a look of disgrace, a look which conveys no mercy or pity. Huffing, she once again clears her throat, distracting herself but evidently remising on my indelicacy. Biting her lips, I come to the conclusion that she is trying to withdraw her anger. She is trying to keep up her appearance of a good mother.

"Well then," Father chuckles, "I hope this girl manages to realise her beauty."

"She will," Wyatt declares. "With time."

After a few moments of cutlery hitting against plates and food being chewed, mother makes an announcement.

"So Wyatt, aside from handsome, your also quite fit," she notices.

"Thank you."

"Do you work out?"

"Yes."

"In that case, why don't you become Valentina's personal trainer!"

My heart stops. My world trembles.

"Why?" I think. "Why are you doing this? What pleasure do you get out of doing this?"

"I don't think Valentina needs a personal trainer," John interrupts.

"Neither do I," says Anne.

"Exactly," Wyatt agrees, brushing his leg against mine once more. "She's not just a pretty face. She has a wonderful soul and a very beautiful brain."

Hiding my face, I fumble with my hands in order to control my nervousness. A rope, which was tightened to the point of unbearable discomfort, has vanished and formed into a thousand butterflies, invading my stomach and causing a weakness in my knees.

"Nonsense," mother snickers, "she could do with a little exercise. Right Valentina?"

Fear floods through me and I hold back the urge to cry and break down. I feel my heart fall and break and the remainders of my self-esteem and respect fade away with my response.

"Yeah," I mumble weakly. "I do need to exercise."

Abruptly, Anne aggressively drops her knife and fork on her plate with a loud clash.

"Honey, this is ridiculous," Anne whispers softly. "You do not have to do anything you don't want to. I'm sure you have more important things to worry about then body image!"

"No," I mutter. "It's ok," I try to convince myself but of course, I'm failing.

"I'm sure it's not even your fault," Anne reassures me. "Maybe it's the amount of fats in your diet?"

I shake my head.

"No," I reply. "I have a condition in the ovaries and one of the symptoms is...immense weight gain."

"See?!" She exclaims. "You don't have to exercise because it's not your fault!"

"Anne, lower your voice," John orders.

Anne grips the kitchen cloth, glaring at my mother.

"Is your daughter okay with this?"

"Why don't you ask her?" My mother questions.

All eyes lay upon me.

"I'm okay with it," I stammer.

"This is ridiculous," Wyatt says, kissing his teeth. "Val..."

"I'm okay with it," I repeat.

Taking a deep breath, Anne stands up.

"I think we ought to leave," she spits, grabbing her purse.

John follows, rushing to his wife's side and Wyatt shakes my hand as a goodbye, giving me a quick nod before leaving.

And as I look down, I see a piece of paper.

With his number on it.