Under Ground (17 page)

“That sounds familiar,” I say,
laughing lightly.

Chi goes on to explain that the
second book criticizes the privileges of the upper class in
eighteenth century France. He says these ideas were controversial
at the time and gave a taste of the Revolution that was to come. I
stare at him, my face blank. I've never heard of the French
Revolution before. He smiles at my reaction, and I forget all about
my life for a while. Chi is a deep source of knowledge, a fount of
information constantly pouring out, fascinating me.

"Chi?"

"Yes?"

"The collection of poetry that you
gave me was translated from
Les Châtiments
. Is that French?"
I ask.

"Yes, it is."

"Do you have a French copy of
it?"

"No, Thia. I gave you my only
copy." He runs his hand over the back and top of his head, messing
up his hair.

I frown slightly. "It didn't
belong to your mom, did it?"

"Why?" He tries to avoid the
subject.

"Did it?" I insist.

"Yes, it did," he concedes, his
mouth quirking up in a tiny smile.

"Chi, I can't accept such a
gift."

That he would give me something so
dear to him when he has so little left from his family is just too
overwhelming.

"Thia, I have other books," he
protests. "I don't need that one. I want you to have
it."

"How many books do you have from
her?"

He clears his throat. "It doesn't
matter. My mother had a whole library of them, forbidden works of
literature, in French and English. I don't know how she got them. I
only grabbed those she preferred. I gave that one to you and you're
keeping it."

I steal a glance around his room
and only see the few books that I had already spotted on his
nightstand table as well as a couple more lying on the floor. "Is
that all you have left?"

"Thia, the conversation is over.
The book is yours."

I didn't understand the magnitude
of Chi's gift until now. I knew that it was a present with meaning,
a specific message from him to me. But now, it has become a lot
more, something that Chi cherished enough that he risked going back
to his parents' house to retrieve it when he knew the authorities
were on the lookout for him. I jump into his arms and crash against
his chest as I wrap my arms around his neck.

He exhales sharply under the shock
and chuckles in my ear. "Had I known you'd react like this, I'd
have given you the book the first day we met."

I cup his face and kiss him,
shushing him. I meet his lips, the side of his mouth, his cheek,
his neck, until the memory of what's about to happen this week-end
rushes back at me to put a harsh, destructive end to this bliss.
And a tear rolls down my cheek, accompanied by an unwanted
sob.

Chi has brought me nothing but
happiness while being with me has cast a shadow of pain over his
life. I don’t want to remind him of what’s going on. I want my
tears to stop falling. I don't want to think about William right
now. I swallow the sounds trying to escape my mouth, but I don't
fool him for long. And the saddest thing is that he instantly
understands what I'm thinking.

“What’s the date of the
pre-nuptial night?” he asks, pulling away from me.

He’s trying to control himself and
not show the anger that’s emerging again. But I can still see it
burning through him as he grits his teeth. There’s something in his
eyes now that's no longer comforting or jovial. Instead, it’s
incredibly painful to look at.

I don’t want to tell him. What’s
the point? I don’t want him thinking about me when it's happening.
I don’t want him to go crazy, counting the minutes, wondering what
I’m doing. But he repeats his question, more insistently this
time.

“It’s on Saturday.”

“This Saturday? Do you mean
tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yes. Chi, I don’t want to! I
never wanted to, not with him. And now I want it even less! I’m not
ready.”

Chi looks at me. “He did it on
purpose. That asshole! He planned it as early as possible. I can’t
believe this! You know what, just don’t do it!”

“What?”

“It’s that simple.
Don’t do
it
,” he snaps, anger growling within each word.

He must have felt the harshness of
his tone because he just looks at me with tenderness now. He takes
my head in his hands, lifts my face toward his, and looks me in the
eyes with pure sweetness and frustration piercing through his
gaze.

“Don’t do it! You don’t have to do
it if you don’t want to,” he pleads.

“Of course, I do! My family will
be humiliated if I don’t go through with this. If I don’t follow up
on my obligations.”

Chi explodes. I know he's not
upset at me, but the detonation of his anger still hits me in the
face as his voice comes out harsh and anguished. “These engagements
were forced upon you by people who don’t care about you. You mean
more than that. You are not an object, Thia! You are a person and I
wish you’d finally realize that! You may not matter to them, but
you matter to me. If you can’t refuse this for yourself, at least
do it for me! I will not plead with you not to do it. I will not
beg! But if you choose not to do it, I will help you. I
promise!”

I know that he means it, but I
don’t see how he can help. The mere thought of being caught with
him brings dread to my heart. I’ve heard what happens to men who
steal another’s property. I could never let that happen to Chi. I
have to protect him from himself and his desire to save
me.

I’m scared and worried about
Saturday night. But the fear I feel at the thought of facing
William is nothing compared to the terror gripping me at the
thought of losing Chi or causing him suffering. I’m about to tell
him that, but he cuts me off before I can speak.

“I’m not sure I can take it, Thia.
I’m not sure I can go through this. Imagining his hands on you,
forcing you, it makes me sick! I wouldn’t be a man if I let it
be.”

“You have to! For me, please,” I
try to reason with him.

He pulls my mouth to his and
kisses me, pressing his lips lightly against mine. A tear falls
down my cheek. I shouldn’t be crying; I’m making it all the more
difficult for him. My grief is like fuel adding sparks to the
raging flame always blazing through his rebellious mind. I try to
contain the tears. I try so hard. But a part of me just wants to
cry against him so badly, to keep his arms around me, rocking me.
And I want to scream. I take a deep breath and look up at the
ceiling to force the tears back inside. Chi sighs and caresses my
cheek with his thumb lightly. He holds me for a long time while
kissing the top of my head and stroking my hair.

“Come here,” he says, leading me
to the bed.

He lets me lie down on it before
joining me. He pulls me to him. I rest my head on his chest and
wrap my arms around him. It’s more than I can take.
My heart is an ocean of sorrows slowly drowning me, and I let
it.
I cry without a sound at first and then louder and
louder until my whole body shakes with untamed wails coming out of
my throat.

Chi doesn’t cry, but the muscles
of his chin are tight with anger while his eyes flash with deep
turmoil. I know right then that he has made his decision, a
resolution that no arguments will change. I’m not sure what his
intentions are exactly, but I know from the look on his face that
they won’t lead to anything good.

PART 2

"I wish Chi and I had never
met—

not because I don’t want to be with
him,

but because I refuse for our
relationship

to cost him his life."

Thia Clay

Chapter 22

The weekend
arrives
entirely too soon.
I'm
awakened by the commotion of people stirring around the house. I
pull the pillow over my face to stifle a scream. I’m frustrated
with everyone. Someone comes to knock on my door. I throw the
pillow at the wall with anger and close my eyes. I pretend to
sleep, and I breathe hard to push back the tears. The door creaks
open and my mother enters. I recognize the sounds of her footsteps
even without looking.

“Thia, are you awake?” she asks.
“We have a long day ahead of us, and you need to get
ready.”

How can my own mother be a part
of this?
Giving her own daughter away to be tried out like some
piece of meat. The thought appears like a shadow in my mind and
disappears just as quickly. I don’t grasp it for fear a scream
might escape my mouth. I look at Mother. Her gaze is cold, as
always. She looks back at me, but she doesn’t see me. She never
does. Her indifference awakens the rage that's always sleeping deep
inside me. I want to shake her.

“Yes, Mother, I’m awake.” I stand
up and sigh, exasperated. Then I let her lead me to the
bathroom.

She closes the door behind us.
“After your bath, Emily will tend to your hair. You'll change into
your dress later in the day so it doesn’t get soiled or wrinkled,”
she says and steps out of the bathroom like a queen after an
official statement.

“Emily,” she calls, “please,
attend to Thia. We won’t have much time for preparations
tonight.”

“Yes, madam.”

Emily walks into the bathroom as
I’m drying my eyes with the back of my hand. She looks at me. Her
gaze drops to my pursed lips, and irritation flashes through her
eyes.

“Today is a day of importance.
It’s a day to make your mama proud. Let’s not ruin it with idle
fears and childish caprices,” she says while looking at me coldly.
Her attitude feels like a punch. But Emily knows I won’t tattle to
my mother about her blatantly rude behavior. I’m used to people
belittling me. I don't even care at this point.

“Of course,” I reply while
straightening my back to give myself more importance. I'm short,
but Emily is smaller than me and I tower over her.

She goes to my bedroom and makes
the bed while I shower in silence. Then she comes back in, dries my
hair, and styles it into a high ponytail. She mumbles to herself
when my locks refuse to cooperate. When she's done with me, I walk
out of the bathroom, refreshed, groomed, and smelling like
strawberry soap.

“Perfect,” my mother says with a
faint smile when I walk into the living room.

Compliments from my mother are
rare. One does not want a girl to think too much of herself. I’ve
grown to crave her praises with such longing in my heart that her
words make me feel lighter in spite of the heaviness weighing on
me.

The day goes by and it feels
agonizing. My chest hurts a little bit more with each passing
minute. I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown. My heart is
beating at a rate that can't possibly be natural. I find myself
shaking a few times without being able to control myself or calm
down. Mother is as oblivious as ever. She spends the day dictating
how to conduct myself tonight. Not only is the conversation
uncomfortable and highly inappropriate, but it infuriates me, too.
I hardly listen to what she has to say. I don’t care what she may
think of my behavior tonight. Instead, I think about Chi. But that
just hurts me even more. I’m bleeding for him on the inside. Though
I worry about myself, it pains me to think what this is doing to
Chi.

***

Eventually, the
evening comes.
The day has been dragging on, and yet this
moment is here all too soon. I can’t wait for it to be over. When
William’s driver comes to pick me up, my heart jumps so hard that
my chest burns. I can’t control my shaky legs. Walking steadily is
a trial in and of itself. I breathe deeply during the entire ride
while feeling my sanity breaking at the edges.

Why am I even here?
What
am I doing in this car?
Maybe I should open the door and jump
out of the vehicle. I could get it over with, right here, right
now, so I don’t have to face what’s coming. Maybe if I fall on my
head when jumping out, my skull will break on the impact and it’ll
finally be over. But I just sit here, looking outside the window
until the car reaches the hotel in Eboracum City, where William is
waiting for me.

His driver opens the door and
takes me inside the building. William is standing in the lobby,
leaning over the front counter. When I approach him, he turns
around without a smile. I feel like everyone is looking at me as if
I were a girl of little virtue. I’m deeply ashamed, and hatred
suddenly grows inside me for those who are pushing me to do
this.

I look at my fiancé, but I'm not
scared anymore; I’m aggravated, my irritation growing into fury. A
bubble of anger rises in my throat, but I let it pop and the nasty
words I wish to shout at William just die on my tongue with a taste
so sour I want to throw up. I don't say anything. I look at him and
clench my jaw. I let him take me to the bedroom.

As soon as the door closes behind
us, William shoves me against it, violently. He presses his mouth
to mine. It’s not soft like Chi’s lips, nor does it feel good. It’s
harsh and sloppy. I’m disgusted with him and myself.