A Price For Freedom

I ran through the quiet streets in the chilly morning air, my heart pounding more forcefully with each step.

Soft pink and orange streaks painted the sky as the sun barely rose, but it made little difference. Marco was all I could think of.

Why hadn't he informed me of his departure? Marco worked in the little shade by the park, which I spotted when I turned the corner. I saw the door slightly open, and my chest narrowed.

In order to gather my breath, I slowed down and took a quick look inside. There he was, stuffing his paintbrushes into a shabby bag.

Even though he hadn't seen me, I could sense the tension in the room. I said, "Marco," with a breaking voice.

His shoulders hardened as he froze. He turned slowly toward me. Normally warm and alive, his eyes were now wary.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" As I entered, I inquired. With a sigh, Marco combed through his untidy hair. "Bella, what's the point? Now your path is clear.

I don't need to ruin it for you." My eyes were watering, but I blinked them away. "You believe I want this? To wed a man I've never met? to abandon everything we've ever dreamed of?" He said, "You have a choice," in a quiet voice.

"You can say no." I gave a headshake. "Marco, it's not that easy. You have no idea how much this affects my family.

He moved in closer, looking into my eyes. "How about you? Bella, what about your dreams? Aren't you  important? I was silent for a while.

The weight of his words hung heavily. However, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the shade before I could respond.

Marco stiffened, looking quickly toward the door. "Who’s that?" I said, "I don't know," as panic began to seep into my chest.

The door squeaked open, revealing Kelvin's face. His attitude was incomprehensible as he looked at us.

His voice was soft as he replied, "Mom sent me to find you," "She says Mr. Presley is coming back this afternoon to discuss the proposal."

        -------------------------

Tension hung heavy in the air back at the house. My mom was rushing around, cleaning already-spotless surfaces and arranging furniture. She called, "Isabella," in a sharp voice.

"Go change into something nice. We must leave a positive impression. Still in shock from my discussion with Marco, I stood by the entrance.

"Do we really have to do this?" With fiery eyes, my mother turned to face me. "Yes, we do. Do you think I wanted all this? To give up your freedom? But what other choices do we have though? Isabella, the debts are ruining us!.

If we don't pay them as soon as possible, they'll take the house." Her remarks were like a kick to the stomach.

Actually, I had thought of this day. I simply didn't think it would feel so oppressive. --- My mother was nearly trembling with anxiety, and the house was spotless by the time Alexander arrived that afternoon.

While my younger siblings peered out from the corridor, their curiosity scarcely restrained, Kelvin sat in the corner, his face fixed in a frown.

Alexander entered with the same composed assurance as the previous day, but he was accompanied by an older man who was wearing a pricey suit and had sharp features.

"This is my father, Mr. Presley," Alexander acknowledged, pointing to the guy at his side. An uneasy smile came to my mother's face. "It’s an honor to meet you, sir."

With a stern nod, Mr. Presley looked around the room before focusing on me. "Let’s get straight to the point," he said in a serious and icy tone. "This union is a commercial partnership.

Your family needs financial stability, and my son needs a good woman to keep up appearances. It's easy."

As he went on, my stomach turned. "If Isabella agrees to this marriage, we will clear all your debts, provide a monthly allowance for your family, and ensure you live comfortably."

"And what’s the catch?" My mother gave Kelvin a harsh look when he blurted out. A small smile tugged Mr. Presley's lips. Isabella will be a member of this family, which is the catch, as you say.

She will live like a Presley, attend our events, and abide by our standards. Personal desires and rebellion will not be tolerated.

The walls seemed to be closing in on me. This was a pact, not just a marriage. A jail. "And if I refuse?" I barely whispered the question.

Mr. Presley's face grew strict. "We will then revoke our offer. However, I don't think you'll make it through the fallout from your indebtedness." The ensuing silence was oppressive.

Desperation clouded my mother's eyes as she looked at me. Softly, "Isabella, please," she said. I looked at my younger siblings, who were looking around the corner with wide, scared eyes, and then at Kelvin, whose jaw was settled in rage.

At last, Alexander, who had remained quiet up until now, said. "You have a choice, Isabella. Nobody will make you do anything.

Although his remarks sounded nice, it was obvious how serious they were. I inhaled deeply as my thoughts raced.

I reflected on Marco, our shared aspirations, and the life I was about to abandon. But I also thought about my family, the hungry faces of my siblings and the weary eyes of my mother.

"I need more time," I stated in a quivering voice. Despite his displeasure, Mr. Presley nodded. "Tomorrow is your deadline.

The offer is no longer open after that. The car's engine then faded into the distance as he and Alexander departed. With unsteady legs, I sat down and buried my face in my hands.

"Isabella," my mom remarked quietly as she sat next to me. "I know this isn’t what you want, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t like for the people we love."

I didn't respond. It was as if my heart were being split in two. --- Later that evening, I was sitting by myself in my room when a gentle rap on the window interrupted the stillness.

When I looked around, I saw Marco standing outside with the moonlight casting shadows across his face.

Silently, he said, "Can we talk?" My heart pounding, I opened the window. "What are you doing here?" "I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye," he stated in a wounded voice.

"But I need to know, Bella—are you really going to marry him?" Unable to respond, I glanced at him with tears in my eyes. "Because if you are," Marco added weakly, "then this means farewell."