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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1943508-The-Seatbelt
Rated: E · Short Story · Relationship · #1943508
A short story of John and Mena.
John tightened his hands on the steering wheel.  He could see the whites of his knuckles as they gripped the steering wheel tighter.  He had no idea why he was so angry, but the silence in the car was enough to drive him crazy. On top of the silence, it had started to rain. Each time the windshield wipers scraped across the window, it reminded him he should have them replaced.

He sighed.

“What’s wrong?”  Mena asked.

Mena, his girlfriend, looked gorgeous tonight. Her hair was up in pin curls, not her usual layered bob.  The way the red dressed hugged her curves; she was the sexiest woman at the restaurant tonight.  His plan was to take her someplace special, but he hadn’t planned on his night going so horribly wrong.

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped.

“You promoted tonight like it was gonna be some special night but you seem so intent on ruining the evening.”

She folded her arms as turned to stare out of her passenger side window.

It’s true, he thought. It was supposed to be a special night. He had told Mena to dress up as they were going out someplace special to eat.  His intentions were to propose, but his jealousy had gotten the best of him when the waiter seemed to have known Mena.  John wasn’t afraid to admit that the waiter was handsome.  He was tall, naturally tanned with a great smile.  He kept smiling at Mena and giving her extra attention.  John felt that Mena loved every bit of it.  He wondered if maybe she wasn’t the one for him at all.

John’s hands started tightening again around the steering wheel. He could even feel a scowl come across his face. He looked down as Mena reached for the radio.  She turned it on and then proceeded to flip through the stations until John felt she had found the loudest rock band ever to drown out the silence.

Just great, he thought. The music was causing his head to pound. He reached with his right hand and turned the radio off. They once again were faced with the screeching sound of the windshield wipers.

“Seriously!”  She screamed across the car.  “What is your problem?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I had a bad night,” He told her with his tone remaining calm and even.

She unfolded her arms and pointed her finger in his face.

“You had a bad night? What about me?  You tell me to get all dressed up and take me to a fancy restaurant. I felt like maybe you were gonna propose.  Now you are driving erratically, in the rain, with an attitude.”

His internal anger became lost, and his even tone abandoned as he began to yell back. “I saw the way you two looked at each other.”

“What are you talking about?” She looked confused.

“The waiter in the restaurant,” he stated.

“What about him?”

“Did you know him?” He looked over at her to see if he could detect her lies.

“No, I didn’t know him and keep your eyes on the road.”

“Then why did he keep coming by the table smiling at you and refilling your water?” John was still yelling and still pointing his finger accusatory at Mena.

“How would I know?”

“I don’t believe you.” He shook his head. His anger and jealousy were boiling over.

“Maybe he thought you were gonna propose. I know I did,” she stated matter-of-factly.  “That’s why I kept drinking the water.  Didn’t want to be parched when I said ‘yes’.”

“You really didn’t know him?”  John asked.  His voice was softer now.

“No John.  I love you, remember?”  She refolded her arms and turned her head towards the passenger side window.

He felt so stupid.  He had told the maître’d that he was planning to propose. Maybe the maître’d told the waiter. With his left hand, he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the box that had the ring in it. He purchased that ring over a month ago and just hadn’t found the right time to give it to her.

“Here.”  He tried to hand her the ring.  It slipped and landed on the floor of the back seat.

Mena unbuckled her seat belt, twisted in her seat, and tried to reach behind for the black box. John glanced over at her to see if she had retrieved it.  It was dark, and it felt like forever for Mena to turn back around in her seat with the box in hand.

“I should have asked you in the restaurant.  I’m sorry I ruined the evening.”

Mena opened the box.  It had taken John two hours to pick out the ring.  The women in the jewelry store were very impressed with John’s taste.  They assured him his girlfriend would love the two karats, princess-cut diamond.

Mena’s face confirmed that he had made a great decision.

“I hoped you would like it.”  He said as he looked over to her.  “I know it’s not the most romantic setting, but will you-."

“Look out,”  Mena yelled.

John turned his eyes back to the road just in time to see the car, in front of him, has stopped.  He swerved to miss the car.  The rain had made the road very slippery, and the car was now sliding across the road.

Everything went black.

John could hear the siren of an ambulance.  He wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious but was glad help was on its way. It had only felt like seconds had passed. John’s mind was on Mena.  He hadn’t seen her buckle up her seatbelt after reaching for the ring, and he was worried.  Especially, since they had just been involved in a head-on collision.

Mena.  He needed to know she was ok.  This whole evening had been his fault.  He let his stupid jealousy get in the way of what was supposed to be one of the most important nights of his life.  And now he wasn’t even sure if she was alive.

“His name is John.”  He could hear a voice say.  He recognized the voice but just couldn’t seem to open his eyes to see who was speaking.  John couldn’t understand why he couldn’t open his eyes.  Maybe he had been hurt as well.

“He wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.  Is he going to be ok?”  The person sounded so far away.  Also, he knew that voice but why couldn’t he remember the name.

“We’re gonna need you to stand back.”  That had to be the paramedic, he thought.  There must be bystanders around but where was Mena.  He had to know if she was ok.

“I need to know he’s ok.  He’s my fiancé.”

“Ma’am, you have to stand back.  We need to get him to the hospital quickly.”

Mena?  The voice belonged to Mena. How could she be with them?  She was here with me.  John thought.

“But I need to know.”

“I’m Officer Dailey.  Are you ok ma’am?”  It was a different voice.

“Yes, I’m fine.  I was wearing my seatbelt, but he wasn’t.  Officer, I need to know he will be ok.”

John didn’t know that Mena had indeed put back on her seatbelt.  He also hadn’t remembered that he wasn’t wearing his.  When they crashed, he had been the one hurt and now was being worked on by the paramedics.  Mena, on the other hand, was fine.

Tonight was supposed to be the best night of his life, but now it may be the last.  John had let a misunderstanding get the best of him, and it was costing him more than he had realized.  If only he had worn his seatbelt.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1943508-The-Seatbelt