If I Have A Choice, It Wouldn’t Be you

Chapter 6: If I Have A Choice, It Wouldn’t Be you

“What the h*ll?”

“Pick it up, and sign it. You have no other choice.” He uttered and turned his back on me walking towards the kitchen wherein when he reached the fridge, he took out a can of beer, pulled the tab open, and took a huge gulp of the deep amber liquid.

Fuming, and annoyed, bottling my feelings that wanted to explode and engulf the room, I bent down and took the papers back in my hand. I stared at it for a while, reading the letters that seemed to be jumping and floating around before my eyes, my hands trembled and I ripped it, tearing the pieces of paper in bits, not just once, twice, or thrice. I tore them into an unreadable mess, an unfixable document.

“No. I am not getting married. To h*ll NO!” I screamed internally, going berserk in my head, for I was never a very vocal person, especially when I am mad, I keep it all inside me, and the raging part of me remains enclosed in my mind. 

“I know you would do that.” his voice was deep and husky. My gaze averted to his approaching physique. He opened his bag on the table and pulled out another envelope. 

“This is absurd.” I chuckled sarcastically as he walked towards me, holding the envelope in one hand and a can of beer in the other.

“You will be my wife, or you will be sent to one of our factories and work there throughout your life. With no future to look forward to. This is the best choice you could get.” 

“The best choice I could get is to be freed!” I replied.

“That is not one of the options I have for you.” he blankly stated.

“Are you even thinking? Me? Your wife? You could get someone better to be your wife, anyone else. Not me. I have a plan for my future, get married to a sensible and good man, and have a family of my own, a simple life! I do not want to be caged in your messy world. You are a Vermont, you can get whoever girl you want, sir.” 

“Alex.” he corrected me calling him ‘sir’, totally ignoring what I had said.

I sighed, “What do you want?”

“You.” he simply answered, placed the paper in my hand, and turned his back, walking away from me to take his belongings from the table.

But before I could protest and even tear the papers into pieces again, he spoke as if he had eyes behind his head. “Do not think of tearing them again, my lawyer can print hundreds of copies of that.” 

“I would dare to see that.” I challenged.

“And I would make you sign every single one of them.” it was a threat as he looked back at me with those cold and threatening deep amber orbs of his.

He began to walk away when I asked a question that bothered me throughout this transaction.

“Why me?” 

I thought he would ignore my question and proceed to his room but I was wrong. While he retreated, he answered, without looking back at me,

“If I have a choice, it would not be you.”

I watched his back until he disappeared behind the door of his room. My lower lip was in between my teeth as I stared at the closed door. 

He does not remember me.

I smiled sadly, for I knew to myself that he was the only man I had seriously ever liked. I had my crush phase in high school but that was just a phase, in college I never had been with anyone, I never liked anyone actually.

Just him.

On that one night. A stranger I never knew would hold a special place in me. I liked him, and I would not deny that.

But I only had the courage to like him before because I did not know him, and I thought I would never see him again. I was brave to like him for I knew I could not be in a complicated situation with him, that I could just freely like him and indulge in that absurd feeling to a stranger. Because I knew it would not last. I knew it was fleeting. It was just a moment. A memory.

Fate must be playing with me. How funny.

I thought it was just a moment in time, a fleeting feeling, a one time thing.

But why does it feel this way now?

I feel… different. 

Disappointed? Dismayed?

He sounded like he was forced to do this.

He has no choice.

“Then why would you do it?” I uttered quietly. I could not ask him. He cannot hear me.

I opened the envelope and saw a pen inside, I took it out along with the papers and walked to the dining table. I settled the papers down and without reading them, I signed my name. It was three copies.

And when I was done, I inhaled deeply. I did not realize I was not breathing while signing them.

There you go, done. I stared at the papers for a while before I put them back in the envelope, leaving them on the table while I gathered my belongings and looked for my room. He did not tell me where I would stay, but he said, here, so I believe there is a separate room for me here, a guest room perhaps.

I checked the door adjacent to his and I was right. Maybe? Well there is a clean bed and the room was nicely done, so I guess, I will stay here. He will just ask me tomorrow then to move if I am in the wrong room. I took all my belongings inside, went to the bathroom, and showered. 

In the morning, the envelope was no longer on the table and there was no sign of Alex in the house. Today is Sunday, he still works? 

Since this is not my house, I could not just shamelessly indulge myself with the resources here so I searched for his contact number and sent him a message.

“Hey, this is Claire. Can I go out to buy some groceries?”

I waited for a few minutes, tapping my fingers on the counter island before a beep rang on my phone, I grabbed it to open his reply, 

“Why? Are the pantry and fridge empty?”

“Take and use anything you need in my kitchen, Claire.” he texted again.

“Well, maybe you could let me out for a while?” I hoped.

“No.” A single word response. How nice of him.