4

“To-day?” I stammered, my eyes wide in disbelief. I’m shaking my head my lips parting and closing. Dumfounded, I try to tell them that I’ve changed my mind just this morning. I don’t agree anymore. 

“I guess the old man must be in a hurry huh?” Monica comments before slapping a hand over her lips to cover her giggling. 

"Monica..." her mother chaisted. 

"Sorry, sorry"

I closed my eyes, trying to get my bearings, “Why so soon?” 

“I don’t make these decisions my dear, but it is not good for the company to remain without leadership, the stocks are wavering it is the main reason they want the new CEO on board effective immediately, I thought you were all aware?” 

Eunice’s features remained unmoving so I suspect she must know about it to an extent, I don’t know much pertaining to it, only that Dad had to step down, and neither of us can lead a company so never paid it any mind. “What’s with the rush? today?” clearly I’m still hung up on that, “I don’t even know who the man is” the urge to cry arises once more.

Why does this keep happening to me? 

“After you sign these I’ll bring you to meet him at the courthouse it’s really important that we get this out of the way” he urges. 

I scoffed. 

Mad.

Everyone seems to have gone mad.

I can’t believe them right now, Dad included, he only informed me of this yesterday.

I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I?

 A snicker sounded from Monica’s direction, “Your groom can’t wait to have you Kate, I wonder why, we will see you at the reception, don’t be late” She laughed at my predicament as though any of this was meant to be funny. I shoot her a look I wasn't even a way I could muster but I’m that angry right now, the frustration from earlier coming back with vengeance. A trail of sweat drips down my spine, dotting my brow, I think I might pass out.

“This is impossible, I was just on my way to speak to Dad, it's too soon, can we even have a wedding right now those take time to plan” I try to take the sensible route. 

Mr. Alfred nods, “I believe everything will be provided for when we arrive, there really isn't any time Miss Morgan” 

Eunice gets up within a few strides she is standing by me, a hand grabs my wrist, “Now Katy, you are wasting the nice man’s time you don't want him to get angry and take back his offer, do you?” my stepmother asks.

Does she even know this man? How can she not care?

“Think of your father, you don't want to let him down now, do you? not after accepting just last night no less” She kissed her teeth, “Bad, bad daughter, the news would kill him” 

The air freezes in my lungs at her words.

She must feel the last of my resolve slip away at her words because she grins and releases my wrist.

I cross over like a puppet pulled by strings. Mr. Alfred hands me a fountain pen, and I clench it in my fist “Can I not meet him first? I’m not saying I’ll go back on my word but does it have to be today?” 

He shakes his head sadly. “If you’ll sign here please” indicating on a dotted line. 

My hand shakes as I bring it forward, tears obstructing my vision I can’t read a thing on the paper or the name and bold signature in the space opposite where Mr. Alfred guides my hand. 

a tear falls down my trembling chin, landing on the white paper and I sign my name.

Mr. Alfred beside me said something about filing the document and bringing over copies later as we got in the car parked on the curb. 

Eunice saw us to the door and told me my father would be proud that I saved his future.  

What about my future?

I feel the smooth leather seats cool at the back of my thighs as Monica sticks her head in the car for a second whistling before saying “The man must the quite old and hideous to be spending all this money on a wedding, think you’re his third or fourth wife huh Kate?” when I don’t say anything she rolls he eyes mumbling “At least he’s got the dough, something to keep you warm at night, when I get famous, I'll be sure to marry a man thats got both the looks and the money, some of use are just lucky” she slides me a meaningful look before walking off.

Mr. Alfred gets on the other side beside me and the vehicle rolls off.

**

I can’t think. 

I’ve managed to stop crying at some point but my eyes hurt. I feel numb.

When the car stops in front of the courthouse, a driver holds the door open, he looks more like an FBI agent than a driver from his suit and dark glasses covering his eyes.

I step out slowly, looking at the other side of the road where taxis are waiting.

I could run. 

The idea plays like a tape before my eyes. I would dash over to the other side, jump into a cab, and give them my dorm address, there I could pack the little things I have and with my savings, I could disappear, get on the next bus to Tijuana or somewhere in Mexico, and get lost. 

No one would ever find me.

I wanted to do it so badly.

But then what would happen to Dad, to the company? 

He would feel so betrayed if I ran away.

Would the man- whatever his name is, would he go back on his word to lead the company? Or he could decide to sell it off in pieces, the news would wreck Dad. His frail body wouldn’t be able to take it.

I can’t do that to him. 

He would die thinking no one cared about him. 

So, I stepped off the curb with Mr. Allen leading, we headed inside together. 

 Whoever bought Dad’s shares, must have a lot of sway and influence. The moment we arrived, I was led off by a woman who introduced herself as Martina, she took me to a room with a wedding dress already picked out, shoes, make up, everything. Directing me to a chair to get started on my hair. 

Do you have any information on the man I want to ask, I want to tell her that I don’t want to do this, ask for her help, she seems a sensible woman, but the words do not leave my tongue, once more I curse my timidness. 

As with every other girl I’ve envisioned my wedding day a time or two, of course, I would marry a loving man, we would be good friends even if he isn’t of high class in society. I would spend weeks planning it with my friends, there would be an abundance of our favorite foods and drinks, instead of that I get a rushed one at the courthouse, the man of the hour unknown. 

What have I done? 

As the lady pressed some powder to my cheeks and dusted my eyelids with a brush I want to continue my crying from where I stopped earlier. 

About two hours later I stare at myself in the mirror, I’ve been transformed. This woman, Martina must be an expert because I don’t look like I spent the better part of the past twenty-four hours crying my eyes out. She helped me into a simple figure-hugging lace white dress and attached a long veil to my hair.

This is not what I would have picked out of myself in a thousand years. From the detailed embroidery on the sleeves and over my chest, I assume it’s quite pricy, but I don’t like it. It’s not my style, more elegant than cute which I would have preferred. The lady helped me into white-heeled sandals and placed diamonds in my ears. I look good and I want to cry.

Finally, she slipped a bouquet of roses into my hands.

A knock sounds on the door and she pulls back after doing the finishing touches on the veil. A male voice calls, “It’s time”

There’s no going back now, I am getting married.