WHAT THE HELL

“There's news that I would like to share with you. You're getting married to Alexander. He is the best person that I have selected for you to marry”, my dad said, as I came down the stairs, his wife beside him as he made his announcement. I froze at the spot when he was done with his announcement. I had rushed out of my room right after dropping my luggages,  because I was excited to tell them about school. It had been six months since I came home, because I was always busy with projects, exams and managing a business that I owned. The rush of regrets hit me. I remembered one of the reasons that I stayed away from home, my parents always had something to dictate about my life. Initially, I had wanted to be an actress, to be seen on the big screen, but my parents had rejected my dreams, saying that it was worthless and that they would not let their daughter do such a thing. I was forced into business, and with time I grew to love it. But they did not stop there, they dictated where I went, what type of parties I went, what I wore. I had to be away from home to be myself, and just when I decided to come back, they decided to drop the final bomb on me. 

"What the hell?!" The words exploded from me, raw and uncontrolled, a stark contrast to the usually composed exterior I presented to the world. It was barely two hours since I had come back from school, I had just graduated college with first-class honors in Business, and instead of celebrating, they hit me with the worst news imaginable. My father had just announced that I would get married to a man that I barely knew, a family friend, a son of a CEO, who also happened to be a CEO and a mafia boss. I had only met him at family gatherings, and even then, he had been aloof, arrogant, and rude to everyone except his parents and mine. We never spoke with each other, we only greeted each other a few times for formality sake. Now, I was going to be forced to get married to him.

"Language, young lady," my father responded, his voice a low growl that mirrored the simmering anger I felt.  I had just received the biggest shock of my life. I always knew my parents could be cold, ruthless in their pursuit of wealth and power.  But I never imagined they would go this far.

 "Mum, please say something. I can't marry Alexander. He's like a stranger," I pleaded, my voice cracking.

"Case closed, honey. There's nothing I can do about it," my mother replied, her tone as cold and unyielding as the marble floors beneath my feet.

"I have a boyfriend! I've told you both before!" I insisted, desperation clawing at my throat.

"You should break up with that little boy and focus on the good things your mother and I have placed at your feet. I had advised you to not fall in love at your University, but as usual, you don't listen to me”, my father replied curtly.  His words felt like a slap. He and my mother had always advised that love was a fairytale that never lasted, and that I should never fall in love, because it would not end well for me.

That was not the case for me. I met Ryan in my first year, we became friends within weeks. Ryan, even then a dedicated medical student, possessed a quiet strength that drew me in. We fell in love slowly, over shared coffees and late-night talks.  His kind eyes and gentle touch made me feel safe and loved. He helped me with my business, offering smart ideas and even designing a beautiful logo. We stole kisses in the library and whispered secrets under the stars.  Simple moments, like walks on the beach, felt magical with him.  He made me laugh, he understood me, and he loved me completely. He was always kind to me even on our worst days. He made me feel my best and after a year of dating, we promised each other that we were going to get married, and nothing was ever going to separate us. That was how I knew he was the one. And I had promised myself that I was never going to let him go.

"This isn't the 16th century, Dad! I can't just marry a stranger because you and Mum arranged it! And Ryan's not 'a little boy'! He's a successful medical doctor, and he's wealthy!" I argued, my voice rising with each word. It was true that Ryan was wealthy, he was a cardiologist, who had his PhD degree at the age of thirty. He was currently working at the biggest hospital in the state, and was getting paid over three hundred thousand dollars per month. It was enough for me. He was the sweetest soul ever, and I was not sure that I would mind if he was earning less.

"That doesn't count," my father said, his voice sharp. "He's not in business. He doesn't have lucrative skills that can bring billions.  The agreement is sealed. You'll marry Alexander, and that's final.  The bond between our families… the power… the money… it's all too significant to ignore. You're marrying him in twenty-one days, and that's final. Now, I heard you got first-class honors. We'll celebrate later. For now, rest and compose yourself," he said, walking away.  My eyes stung with unshed tears. My dad had made his declaration, and I knew him to be a stone hearted man that would refuse to change his mind. 

"Mum, please! I can't! I haven't even spoken to Alexander properly! I'm in love with Ryan! He's a good man, and I promise, he's rich!" I begged my mother, my voice choked with emotion. This was so difficult to take in, I could feel myself not being able to breathe properly.

"But Alexander would be better," she said, her voice devoid of warmth.

"Mum, please—"

"I think you need to rest, Olivia. There's nothing I can do," she said, leaving me rooted to the spot, the weight of their decision crushing me. I slowly began to hate and despise my parents.

I fought back tears, but once I reached my room, the dam broke.  How was I going to cope? I was deeply in love with Ryan, and Alexander… I never cared to pay attention to him, and now that I was forced to get married to him, I hated him. 

‘Was he aware about this arranged marriage? Had he agreed to it? Was it possible for someone like him to be in love with anyone? If he did, was there a way to prove to him that I was not his type of person, so that he would call off the marriage?’, I asked myself these questions, not knowing any answer to the question.

But one thing I knew for sure was that he did not like me. The few times we exchanged greetings, he talked like he would rather climb ten mountains than utter a single word to me. The few times I saw him looking at me from across the table at the family meetings, he stared for a long time as though he would rather not have me around him. So was it possible to make him call off the wedding? A plan formed in my head. I was going to make him despise me enough to call off the wedding, or we could get to some sort of marriage agreement to never have anything to do with each other. He despised me, and it was going to be easy to make him see reasons why marrying me would be the worst thing to happen. Or so I thought.