The Choice To Make

After a long, gruelling day at the office, I finally get home. The moment the front door clicks shut, I exhale a deep, weary sigh.

I start up the staircase, desperate for a hot bath,

“Rachel!” Mum’s voice calls. I turn as she approaches me

“You’re back,” she says warmly, giving me a brief hug.

"Yes, Mum. I’m exhausted. I just want to eat and sleep.”

“Before you go to bed, sweetheart, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” I groan inwardly.

“Okay, Mum.”I retreat to my room and step into yet another hot shower. It feels… therapeutic. The water cascades down my body, but it can’t wash away the thoughts swirling in my head—mostly about Damian. Am I making the right decision with this arrangement? Is this the only way?.

Nevertheless, I'm going to pull through this. I always pull through every and any situation or inconvenience. After my shower, I slip into a silk nightgown just as a knock raps on my door. I open up to find Mum standing with a maid carrying a food tray.

"I haven’t had dinner either, so I thought I’d eat with you,” Mum says softly. I nod and gesture for her to come in. She sat at my table while I remained on the bed. We eat in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel them simmering just beneath the surface. Finally, I set my spoon down.

“Mum. I know you're not in my room just to have dinner. Spill it.” She sighs.

"Honey, I’m worried. You don’t have a fiancé or a partner. What’s the plan?”

“I’ll figure it out, Mum.” Matter of fact, I have. But then, I'd love for this to be a surprise.

“I spoke to Mr Raymond and we've agreed that you can marry his son.” She says plainly. Like she did not just set my whole being ablaze with irritation.

“You did what?. Without my permission?” I clench my hands into a fist. I have no idea why I did that. It's not like I'm going to hit her.

"Looking for a partner and planning a wedding isn't going to be easy. Do you think I'd want a rushed wedding for my daughter?. I had to find you a husband fast so we can focus solely on the wedding preparations.”

She's more bothered about the wedding than about whoever it is I would be getting married to. In that case, I have nothing to worry about. But still, her words enraged my insides. I clench my jaw.

“I said I’ll handle it mum.” She leans forward.

"By doing what exactly? Waiting for a miracle? This isn’t a fairy tale. You need a husband, and you need one now.”

“Mum, I know exactly what I need. I don’t need you trying to shove some desperate plan down my throat.” Her expression darkens.

“Desperate? I’m trying to save you from losing everything your father built. But maybe you don’t care about that.”

I shoot up from the bed.

"Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare imply that I don’t care. I’ve sacrificed everything for this family, for this company. And you, what have you done? Arranged a marriage with a college kid? What in the world?”

Her face hardens. “Richard is a good boy. And his family has influence. It makes sense. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?. He’s a freaking child, Mum! Five years younger than me! He can’t even legally drink, for God’s sake!”

“It’s a solution!” she snaps back. “Or would you rather see Aunt Vera’s son take over? Is that what you want?”

My heart pounds in my chest. “I would rather figure this out on my own than marry someone I have nothing in common with. Someone I've never even spoken to”

Hell I never even thought of if Mr Raymond was married or had a family. I had no cause to. I only saw him like once a year when Dad was alive. Her eyes narrow.

"If you want to throw your future away, be my guest.”

“I don’t want your help, Mum. I’ll figure it out. My way.”

She looks at me for a long, tense moment before turning on her heels and walking out. The door closes with a soft but final click. I sit back down, my hands trembling. I call in a maid to clear the dishes, the weight of the argument settling on me. Later, lying on my bed, I grab my phone and open a chat with Damian.

"Hi, it’s Rachel,” I type. His reply comes instantly. “Hi.”

Straight to business, then.

"So, about the basis of the contract…”

“Yeah?” Short. Curt. Annoying.

“We’d get married, I’d inherit my father’s company, and you’d satisfy your dad’s wishes.”

“Established.” Is he a robot? Let me try again.

"It would be a short-term arrangement, four to six months. We’d get married, perform all the necessary appearances, and I’d have to move into your residence for credibility.”

A pause.“Rachel, proposing a business deal and calling the shots… I like it," I can almost see his smirk. “But there would be rules. And four to six months is short. Could raise eyebrows. A year should be better.”

“A year. That's fine. And what rules are you talking about?” I type, my fingers tight on the phone.

"You’d live in my house. This stays strictly confidential, between us. Strictly contractual.”

“I’m not dumb, Damian. I know what this is.”

"Then we’re good. Come to my office tomorrow.”

I wanted to type, ‘Can’t you come to mine?’ but then, I initiated this. So, I swallow my pride. “Okay.”

So, tomorrow… I’d meet Damian face-to-face to sign away the next one year of my life.