Thirteen Years of Waiting

SLOANE

I get out of the car nervously, clutching my bag tighter. I watch as the reporters crowd the restaurant's entrance. They are obviously here because of him. They shout different questions, their voices overlapping like crashing waves.

“Rowan, is it true you are getting married?”

“Who is the lucky girl?”

“What is the girl’s name?”

When I finally lay my eyes on him, my heart flutters. My Rowan, the boy I grew up believing is mine. The boy I waited for, holding onto the promise that was made thirteen years ago.

Rowan enters the restaurant with bodyguards on either side of him. And I duck my head, trying to avoid the reporters as I enter the restaurant. My heart beats with each step I take towards him. He looks more handsome in person. The cameras did not do enough justice. Rowan sits at a corner booth, his high cheekbones and jawline carved just like they are in magazines. A sudden draft from the air conditioner makes the hairs on my nape stand on end. I smile widely, enamored by him.

An eerie sensation washes over me when I notice that Rowan is not sitting alone.

Beside him, a lady clings to him, a sinister smile curving her mouth. She looks like the kind of beauty that makes heads turn. She’s wearing a maroon mini dress that clings to her curves perfectly. Her elegant appearance is enhanced by her long, toned legs. Her features are perfectly symmetrical, with high cheekbones, full lips, and almond-shaped eyes that seem to hold both allure and calculation. She rests her manicured fingers on Rowan’s chest, leaning on him.

His gaze finds mine across the room, pinning me in place as if the rest of the world has dissolved into smoke. But my eye is fixated on the arm he wraps around the woman. Rowan is about to speak, but she beats him to it.

“So this is the girl your grandpa talks about.” Her voice sounds sweet, but her eyes cut like glass. She eyes me from head to toe, and it’s almost as if she can’t believe her eyes. I stand straighter, matching her glare. “I expect a real competition. Instead, I find this…” she laughs softly, as she throws her head back.

“Pardon my manners, I am Christine, Rowan’s girlfriend.” Her smile feels forced, like a mask she wears to deceive everyone. Immediately, the words come out of her mouth. Rowan’s eyes caught mine, sharp and unreadable.

How does he have a girlfriend? I mask the sad feeling that settles in my heart. “Hi, I am Sloane, Rowan’s Fiancé.” I return the smile.

“Can you excuse me? I want to talk to my Fiancé.” I say to her as I sit opposite both of them. She scoffs loudly, as if she can’t believe her ears.

“How dare you talk to me like that? Do you know who I am?” She tries to stand up, but Rowan holds her waist, pulling her onto his lap.

What the hell? How can he do this in my presence?

“Listen, Sloane, I know we’re getting married soon. But I’m not going to let you speak to Christine in this manner.” Rowan says in his deep voice. The word rings in my ear, sharp as glass.

Excuse you? How about the way she’s talking to me? My chest tightens as I rub my palms together nervously.

“My girlfriend and I have somewhere to be, so I’ll make this clear. I am only marrying you to honor the promise Grandpa and I made to your parents. If you think I’ll offer you love or any form of sentiment, then you’re wrong. Christine is the only woman I’ll ever love. You might be my wife in front of everyone, but she has my heart.” He moves closer, the air thickening with unspoken tension.

I swallow the lump in my throat and watch helplessly as the girl shares a passionate kiss with him. I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from them. Why is he acting like he didn't say he was going to marry me?

She pushes his chest away slowly. “Rowan, it’s inappropriate to do that in the presence of your fiancé. I’m sorry Sloane, don’t mind him. He can get a little possessive.” She looks at him, lacing her fingers with his.

His jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker towards me, just for a second. It isn’t love in that glance, but it is not indifference either.

“Trust me, I’m very familiar with how possessive Ro can be. He did that a lot when we were young.” I say to Christine, intentionally using Rowan’s nickname.

A pang of emotion hits me when Rowan’s hazel eyes connect with mine.

How can he say I can’t have his heart when I gave him mine thirteen years ago? Growing up, my heart has always been his. Even when I started high school, I turned down all the boys who asked me out. I’ve always held on to the promise he made to me when he was small. My feelings for him grew day by day. I watched all his interviews and even read the newspaper so that I could see him. What happened to the Rowan that I met years ago?

I waited for him all these years—and he belongs to someone else.

My excitement took over my common sense when his grandfather showed up at my house last week and asked if I still wanted the marriage. I said yes stupidly, because I thought he was waiting for me. But he has clearly moved on.

His grandfather even helped me with my internship at the medical school. He often talks about how he’s eager to be my father-in-law.

“How can she be your girlfriend, Rowan? You promised-” My heart shatters into a million pieces. I am not the only one happy about the marriage; the joy on my dad’s face when he dropped me off at the restaurant was ecstatic.

“Please, Sloane, are you going to use our childhood fantasies against me? I don’t have time for this. You want marriage, right? I’m going to marry you to fulfill my promise. This is my card; you can use it to get anything you want. But don’t expect anything more but I can’t give you that. I’ll see you on our wedding day.” The intensity with which he says it hurts my heart even more.

He drops a black Amex card on the table and stands up to leave.

“No, Rowan, I'm not going to marry you.” I hold his arm to stop him from leaving, and a spark runs through me. It’s almost as if he feels it too because he jerks back immediately when my hand touches his.

“This is not how our story is meant to unfold. We will both tell our families we are not getting married. How do you expect me to marry you when you clearly love someone else?” I whisper the last part softly, trying not to show how much pain I’m in. He stares at me with the hazel eyes I’ve spent thirteen years admiring from afar.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am not doing this because it is what I want. If I have my way, I would be getting married to Christine instead. I don't want to upset Grandpa or risk my inheritance. So just stop this drama. If you dare say anything to Grandpa, trust me, you'll regret it. I'll make your life miserable, Sloane.” His jaw tightens, fury simmering beneath the surface.

He doesn't plan on loving me, and he doesn't want to leave me either. How is it my fault that he got into a relationship when he knows he’s going to marry me? How am I the heartless one when I’m the one who had to watch my fiancé kiss another woman and hold her tenderly in my presence?

“Babe, I am tired. Can we leave?” Christine leans into him more, and eyes me mockingly, as if she’s trying to get her point across.

“Yes, baby. But the reporters are still outside; I’ll try to get them away so they won’t bother you with questions. You are already going through a lot as it is.” He gives her a forehead kiss and leaves. He doesn’t even spare me a glance.

“You drama queen!” Before my mind can process what’s happening, Christine stands dangerously close to me.

“You think you can just waltz in here and claim ownership of my man? Rowan would never love you; get that into your fucking brain. Do you think he’ll just come running to you because of some crappy old arrangement?” She grabs me, sinking her manicured nails into my arm painfully.

“What on earth are you doing? You’re hurting me.” I shout at her, but she snarls at me like a dog. I struggle to release myself from her clutches, but her grip tightens.

Suddenly, she falls to the ground, scratches her face with her sharp nails, and starts sobbing. “I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me. I’ll leave Rowan if that’s what you want. Please.” Before I can respond, someone shoves me away, hardly.

“What did you do to her?” Rowan’s angry voice booms loudly. He kneels to her level, gathering her in his arms, before returning his cold gaze to me. “What is wrong with your Sloane? When did you become this violent? I left you for one minute, and you already attacked my girlfriend. You’re not even my wife yet, and you’re already acting like one.” The coldness in Rowan’s eyes feels like a punch to my gut.

“The next time you pull a stupid stunt like this, I’ll make sure you pay for it. I am letting this go because of Grandpa. But there’s only a little I can tolerate when he comes to her.” I feel his heavy gaze like a physical weight, and a pang of raw emotion runs through me.

“But I didn’t—”

“You what? Are you trying to say you didn’t touch her? And she hurt herself.” He says, getting angrier.

That’s exactly what I’m saying! She attacked me first, and I didn’t even do anything. I look at the bodyguards again, hoping they’d tell him the truth, but they still keep quiet.

“Apologize to her right now!” He barks.

What? Why should I be the one to apologize? Christine gives a triumphant smile before speaking up again. My hands tremble, but I refuse to show weakness.

“I will not apologize for something I didn’t do.” I hiss, matching his stare.

“It’s okay, babe. Let’s just leave, I’m tired. She’s going to be your wife, and I don't want to have any problems with her. I am sorry you feel threatened by me. I just love Rowan so much, and I didn’t mean to come between both of you.” She says dramatically, sobbing in his chest.

I have never come across such a dramatic person in my life.

“Maybe you should learn from her, Sloane. Her selflessness is one of the many things I admire about her. She still apologized even though you hit her and took the love of her life from her.”

“If you think I’d lower myself and I fight because of a man that doesn’t care about me, then you’re mistaken. I am not asking you to trust me, but I hope you see through her malicious acts.” I retort, before storming out of the restaurant.

Lots of thoughts swirl around my head. My parents are already preparing for the wedding. Hell, the invitations are already sent out.

Should I disappoint my parents, or marry a man who had just promised to make my life hell?