All Chapters of My Family’s choice: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

CHAPTER ONE "I love you." There, I said it. Well, not really me—it's the vodka talking. I seriously shouldn't have had that much alcohol. Normally, I don't drink this much, but hey, it's my graduation day, after all. I deserve a little fun. I didn’t realize that fun would come with consequences. "You do?" His voice comes out in a raspy whisper. I nod, looking directly into his eyes so he can see the truth there. "And not in a platonic way," I add quickly. Nate has been my best friend since my diaper days, and I've been in love with him since I knew what falling in love was. I've tried killing my feelings for him but failed every time. Instead, my feelings only grew stronger. You know the kind of best friend you grew up with, living in the same neighbourhood, having lunch, sleepovers, basically sharing everything? That’s who Nate has always been. Ever since we were born, we’ve been inseparable. Even when we started college, we stuck to our plan—right from high school—and mov

Aunt Becky starts to caress my hand, and I can’t hold back anymore. “What is it, Auntie?” “Can’t I just hold my husband’s niece’s hand?” No! You can’t! I thought to myself. “Yes, you can,” I replied. feeling uneasy with the emotion she expresses towards me right now. After a while, she starts to speak. “You know your uncle has been going through a lot for a long time now. He took care of you since you were five,” I looked at her like," Are you going to the extent of emotional blackmail now? " but kept quiet still. She acted as if she didn’t notice the look I was giving her and instead went on to say, “Business has been slowing for over two years now, and he needs the support from Mr. Walker, or else the business will go bankrupt.” That’s when she finally looked at me. “So, what are you saying, Auntie?” Let her just come straight to the point. “Get married to Mr. Walker,” she said plainly. As I was trying to stand up from the bed I was sitting on, she added, “He promised to g

Mr. Walker leads us out of the reception, and I find a black Rolce Royce decorated with beautiful flowers standing in front of the reception. I mean, why be so dramatic when almost everyone knows it is not a love marriage? However, we climb in and leave the reception. As we sit in the car driving to my new home, it suddenly hits me about my promise to myself about being Nate's, and only his is now broken. It might look like it, but that's not how it is in my heart. "Can we stop at the park?" I look at Mr. Walker and ask. He is looking at his phone with a frown, but I know he heard me. "Why?" He asks, still looking at his phone. I look down and start playing with my fingers. I don't want to tell him about Nate, even my parents don't even know that I love him. Seeing that I won't be giving him an answer to his question, he instructs the driver to pull up at the park. When the car stops right across the park, I get down, trying to hold back my tears. I walked far into the park, wal

“You wanted to talk to me?” I ask cautiously as I enter the dining room. Tyler is seated on the other end of the table, and I guess I’m supposed to sit on the opposite end, seeing as that is the only place the plates are. Why would he need such a long table?Tyler is just sitting there looking at his phone (as usual) while I near the dining table. On hearing my voice, he glanced up.“Yes, but we should have dinner first.” He says in a flat voice, keeping a straight face.“No. I want to know what you want to talk about first.” I manage to keep my voice bold, I t don’t want him to hear how scared I am. And I am just really curious to know what he wants to say to me.“You should eat something first. Mrs. Smith tells me you have not had your breakfast this morning, and this is past 1:20pm.” Oh okay… is it me, or does that sound like he cares? Why?Don’t be naïve and think he’ll go easy on you after your family embarrassed him yesterday. “Well, I did not feel like having breakfast.”“You

"You were eavesdropping on us?" I ask, annoyed, hopping off the stool to face him. My voice echoes slightly against the tiled walls, and the faint hum of the refrigerator fills the silence between us. He peels his glare off my face, his eyes flicking toward something on my left before he brushes past me with that same unbothered expression that somehow always manages to irritate me. "I came here to take a bottle," he answers nonchalantly, opening the freezer to grab one. Cold air spills out, brushing against my bare arms. I fold them over my chest. "And were you expecting the bottle to walk up to you on its own?" Mrs. Smith asks, her tone sharp but laced with humor. My scowl remains fixed on the back of his head. He doesn’t even flinch. "Well, maybe I didn’t want to interrupt your discussion," he says, lifting an eyebrow, his voice smooth as he brings the bottle to his mouth. The sound of the cap twisting open clicks sharply in the quiet kitchen. "So you thought you could as well s