Might as Well Not Marry

On a September morning, sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, casting mottled shadows across the living room floor. Today is the day I bring my boyfriend, Simon Collins, home for our engagement. The house was cleaned spotless early on; fresh fruit and tea were laid out on the coffee table, the air heavy with anticipation and a faint, underlying tension. The living room was filled with relatives; aunts and distant female relatives gathered in small groups, speaking in hushed tones and occasionally glancing toward the door. Father sat on the main redwood sofa, holding a teacup, his brow slightly furrowed and his expression complex, as if some heavy burden weighed on his heart. Aunt Luna Lee wore a bright red dress and sat on the sofa near the door, her gaze constantly sweeping across the room. The moment Simon Collins and I stepped inside, she immediately stood up and hurried over, her eyes fixed intently on Simon, appraising his clothing from head to toe, a faintly discernible look of scrutiny at the corner of her mouth. "Simon, you've finally arrived." Aunt grabbed Simon Collins' arm, speaking warmly, though the calculation in her eyes was unmistakable. "This is your first time coming to our house as the prospective son-in-law, so the meeting gift must be decent. You can't let our Mia down." As she spoke, her hands rubbed her fingers, the gold ring on her fingertip glittering under the light. "I heard that the gold watch worth 500,000 has become quite popular recently. Many families' sons-in-law have brought one with them. What do you think?" I stood to the side, frozen the moment I heard that, my eyes wide as saucers, my heart skipping a beat. A gold watch worth 500,000? That demand is completely absurd, far beyond reason. Even though Simon Collins comes from a well-off family, he shouldn't be subject to such a request. Simon Collins was momentarily stunned; the smile on his face froze for half a second before quickly returning to a gentle expression. He gently withdrew his arm from his aunt's grasp and said sincerely, "Aunt, thank you for your reminder." But a watch worth 500,000 does exceed my budget. I have also prepared other gifts this time, all carefully chosen. Please have a look... Saying this, he reached to pick up the gift bag placed by the door. "Other gifts?" Without waiting for Simon Collins to finish, his aunt suddenly raised her voice, sharp enough to cut through the air. "Are you looking down on our Mia, thinking our girl isn't worth that 500,000?" Or do you still think our family is easy to bully, that you can just throw any old thing at us and get away with it? I quickly stepped forward, took Simon Collins' hand, and turned to his aunt. "Auntie, please don't say that." Simon Collins had really put a lot of thought into the gifts; he went shopping several days in advance and chose items that were both practical and meaningful. A 500,000 watch is way over the top—we're just an ordinary family. There's no need for such extravagance. "Exaggerating?" Suddenly, the aunt sprang up from the sofa, slapping her hands down on the coffee table with such force that the teacup wobbled and a few drops of tea spilled onto the tablecloth. "I've watched Mia grow up since she was little — she's truly the jewel of our family!" Now that she's getting engaged, what's wrong with wanting a decent watch? You ungrateful wretch, always turning your elbows outward. You haven't even married in yet, and you're already taking the side of outsiders. Do you even have any respect left for me, your aunt? As she spoke, her legs suddenly gave way, and she collapsed to the floor. Slapping her thighs, she began throwing a tantrum: "Why is my life so bitter!" This is such a major event—our niece's engagement—and the prospective son-in-law can't even be bothered to buy a decent watch. If this gets out, where will our family's reputation be? What's the point of me staying alive? She cried, occasionally glancing furtively at those around her, her voice heavy with calculated grievance. The relatives were stunned; their quiet whispers abruptly stopped, leaving the living room in complete silence. Everyone looked at one another, then crowded around, speaking all at once as they tried to soothe Aunt Luna: "Luna, don't be angry, let's discuss this calmly." Simon means well too; don't make such a fuss. Get up quickly; the floor is cold. I watched this absurd farce unfold before me, feeling both anger and a chill. I was angry because my aunt threw a tantrum in public, disregarding all dignity; I was chilled because the relatives, though clearly aware that my aunt's demands were excessive, only tried to smooth things over—no one stood up to speak a word of reason. I held Simon Collins's hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his palm and sensing his quiet endurance. Taking a deep breath, I raised my head and said firmly, "The engagement banquet is cancelled!" I'm not going through with this marriage! The living room instantly fell silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. My aunt stopped crying, her hands still resting on her knees from the shaking; tears hadn't yet dried on her face as she stared at me in disbelief, her eyes wide as if she hadn't fully heard what I said. The relatives were stunned as well, all turning to look at me, their eyes filled with surprise.