The Consolation Prize

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

She walked towards where her parents were, leaving Nathaniel behind. They both had distraught expressions on their faces but when she arrived, they immediately masked it with identical fake smiles. She wasn't too shallow to see the worried look on their faces.

"We should carry on with the wedding," her mother said. She held a firm tone, a hard look etched on her features. "This will be a shame in Oliver's part." What about her part? She wanted to ask her mother. She waited for what her father would say. She munched the food on her plate slowly, the air around the three of them heavily tensioned.

Nathaniel's words rang back to her head, her mind clouding already in doubt. "I agree with your mother," her father said, and her heart crumbled to pieces with his answer. Could she say no to them? What would happen if she did? She already knew the answer to that.

She still could vividly remember the day when she asked her parents if she could go to a boot camp during summer—because Monica was signed up with it as well—and they said no. She tried to rebel against their wishes but she ended up working at an ice cream parlour for the whole summer. Though she didn't like the idea of it, she got used to serving people their orders. It was fun to her because she was used to maids doing the work for her. It took a positive turn in the end.

But would things turn out in the end positively if she would marry Oliver? She didn't even love him. Yes, she did have special feelings for him way back high school but it was just a mere infatuation. She opened her mouth to protest but no words came out from her mouth. And even if she did, her parents would turn a blind eye on her. They would never listen. They would not hear the other end of the conversation. She closed her mouth again, and swallowed quietly. "Okay," she meekly said.

"That's quite settled then," her father concluded, clasping his hands together, a satisfied smile written on his lips. He stood up, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor. "This should only be between Oliver, you, Celestine and me," her father said. He held a warning tone, his glance shifting to Oliver's table. Monique followed the trail her father led. His eyes landed on Nathaniel who was rubbing Oliver's back which meant he was comforting his cousin. Somehow, her father knew that Nathaniel knew the tragedy behind Oliver's crestfallen expression.

He left. Her mother's plate was empty, but there were still crumbs staining on it. She wiped the smudges of mayonnaise at the corners of her lips primly. "Eat less," her mother said, "Monica's wedding gown is quite smaller than your size." She left, too, and suddenly, Monique never felt so much alone in the world. The way her parents dismissed her as if she was just an object in their eyes broke her heart not only into two but in a million pieces.

If she could make her parents smile just like Monica. Would they be happy if she helped Oliver? Their approval always meant so much to her. She got used to being second but that didn't mean she always wanted to be forever second. She wanted to be put first, and she wanted to feel valuable to the people whom she always put first. She heaved a deep breath, rolled the Spaghetti Bolognese with the fork and placed it inside her mouth.

Oliver's presence suddenly hovered over her, his green eyes dimmed. "Monique," he called in a raspy tone. There were bags underneath his eyes and his nose was splotchy red. He looked like Santa's infamous reindeer. She wanted to comment it to him out loud but she kept her lips tightly shut. He looked like an awful mess. "We need to talk."

"What is it?" she meekly replied.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "For telling you to be Monica's replacement."