30 Days of Love

Forever Mine

Joanna's POV 

Reading the journal has officially made me understand why my tradition is so important, and it made me realize how much family dies per day.

In front of me, Mama holds a black bikini top with white bottoms that are covered in black polka-dots, questioning if this bikini, out of the five I've previously declined, is the one I'll choose, holding back her frustration, knowing I'll most likely say no again.

Without my choice of decision, for our summer afternoon date, Liam and I will go to a lake. And, although I normally would object, object so much that I'd cause a scene, to wearing anything that doesn't cover up almost every piece of skin, I don't this time because if Uncle Mateo can make a sacrifice, then so can I, right?

Calmly, with anger locked inside a safe inside me, I implore, "Can I please just get a one-piece bathing suit?"

Her voice sharpens as she says, "No." Denying my question, causing every piece of hope I had living inside of me, to burn out like a candle.

"Why not, Mama?" I whine, becoming my five-year-old self again.

"Jo, you've got to get used to wearing this type of stuff. Once you get married, you're practically a woman," Mama remarks. Her chestnut eyes stare through me with intensity.

But, in the background of Mama's face that's tense, a true woman, a woman I will never be, whose flowing brown hair just barely hid her name tag, walks towards us.

My back forms into a straight line and my stomach suck in like models I wish I could become.

"Hi, do you need any help looking for anything?" she politely asks, with a smile that reveals her crooked teeth. It's her only imperfection, as her skin glows a tan from the sun and her body stands of skinny confidence that brags in my face.

"Yes, ma'am do you have any bikinis that cover more skin?" Mama's voice rises, to its usual self that reminds me of early sunrises and late sunsets, instead of the dark, thunder-filled skies that she once had before.

The worker of Victoria's Secret expresses her knowledge, taking us to the back of the store. She, the woman who seems to be raised well, shows us some bikinis that show little skin, making the whole point of wearing a two-piece, pointless.

I feel less uncomfortable wearing such a thing, yet as I try on the baby blue bikini, I feel self-conscious. As I look at myself in the wide, long mirror, my shoulders slump and I bow my head at my purple stretch marks that align from my butt up to my waist that show in the bikini.

Likewise, I notice all my imperfections, that my sweatshirts and hoodies normally hide: hip dips that look like unformed rivers down my thighs, a stomach that makes it seem as if I'm months pregnant, and legs that are boulders.

And while I wear the bikini, the bottoms are knives cutting deep inside my legs, mocking at my foolishness.

"Mama, come here!" I shout loud enough for her to hear.

She shuffles into the dressing room. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, as a grin spreads across her oval-shaped face. "It looks good on you, sweetheart."

"It's tight around my thigh," I specify, feeling my stomach tie into a tight knot.

It takes a moment, a long painful moment, for mama to respond. Her button nose scrunches as she shakes her head. "It seems fine to me, but we can ask for a bigger size."

We proceed out of the dressing room, towards the worker. The more my legs shift, the more the bikini bottoms carve into my skin.

"Can we get a bigger size? She's saying the bottoms are too tight."

The worker's smile fades, as she looks at me. I bow my head, feeling the urge to cross my arms before submitting the thought, remembering to never seem rude. At the small glimpse of her lips frowning, I feel as if she's judging me.

What a poor thing. I hear her brain say. How could you let yourself get this big? I'd never have to question if something fits me.

"That's the biggest size we have in stock." She clarifies, "But I can easily order a bigger size. It should come around two weeks from now."

"No thank you, that'll be unnecessary. Joanna will be just fine in this bikini."

I wince at her words. "She'll be just fine." No, no I won't!

"But, Mama this is way too tight," I groan, wishing she'll sympathize with me.

Still, just like papa would, she grumbles, crossing her arms in a demanding way. "This isn't about you. Mateo made a sacrifice so you can as well."

Liam strolls beside me in his black swimming trunks that are designed with pineapples on top, and with every step we take, I hide the expression of pain demanding to smear across my face.

With beach towels in each of our hands, Liam notices my biggest insecurity. His intriguing eyes stare at my stretch marks.

The air that reaches into my lungs fades as I view his gaze.

"I-I know what you're thinking. J-just don't look at it," I whisper, moving my eyes from him towards the grass that seems far better to look at than to watch his reaction.

"What am I thinking?" Liam questions. From the corner of my eye, I observe his glance that rises from my biggest insecurity to my eyes.

"Y-you think I'm some enormous elephant with marks to prove it," I assume, as the words I've heard a million times replay in my mind.

You're a pig.

How about instead of shoving that brownie down your mouth, you shove it up to your butt. It's not like you need it anyway.

The sound of Liam's footsteps stops, leading mine to stop as well. Eventually, the silence is no longer alive and he steps closer to me, keeping a minute space between us. "Jo, do you believe I'm that type of person?" I didn't notice the tears that were in his eyes as his hand holds onto my shoulder until they began falling down his cheeks like mini waterfalls- so pure. "You're mine forever and always, no matter what. No silly stretch marks are going to change that."

His words are wet paper in my mind, useless. And although I can see how genuine he is being, I somehow can't bring myself to believe him. "Liam, you promised me you'd never lie."

"No. I made a promise to never do anything to change your mind about giving me a chance. Either way, I'd never lie to you, that will be another promise I make," he asserts, his delicate hands making their way into mine.

"You don't r-" I try to say before Liam's hands grasp onto my waist while he throws me over his broad shoulder. He sprints on the emerald grass towards the lake with me screaming on top of his shoulder. "Put me down, Liam!" I shriek, kicking my legs and swinging my arms.

Once the clear lake water surrounds his knees, Liam leans forward, dropping me into the water that's warm from the sun above us.

I'm dragged to the bottom of the lake that emerges me before finally, my bare feet meet with the bottom of the lake floor and push me up to the surface.

"Liam!" I scream, shoving his shoulder with my hand, wiping away the hairs that block my vision.

Our laughs echo against the undying number of oak trees that surround the land of the lake. 'Till our eyes interlock.

The walls that I have held up for so long, form a new crack, a crack that I try to paste back solid by bringing my attention away from his intriguing eyes towards the slightly see-through water.

What our marriage is is a tragedy. I can't allow myself to give him attention, for I'll think differently.