Chapter 5

  Emelda's POV   As I walked into my room, my stomach gave out a rumbling noise, accompanied with a sharp pain. It was obvious; hunger pangs. I hadn't eaten since the previous night and it was past noon already.   Holding my stomach so tightly, I collapsed onto the bed as my aching muscles due to cleaning and cooking yearned for rest.   I was exhausted and it was clearly visible on my face.   Just as I'm about to drift off to sleep, the door opens, and my stepsister, Natasha, barged in.  "Emelda," she snapped, her voice shrill and accusatory. "Why haven't you cleaned my room yet?"  Rubbing my eyes, I sat up, "I was busy," I replied, my voice quiet.  "Busy?" Natasha repeated, her voice dripping with disgust. "Busy doing what, exactly? You're just simply lazy, Emelda, a worthless little servant."  I bit my lip as I tried to hold back the anger rising within me.   "I'm not lazy," I answered back, my voice stronger now. "I work hard for this family, and I deserve some respect."  Natasha's face transformed into a sneer, and before I could react, she grabbed the cup of water on my cabinet and hurled it at me, the water splashing across my face and soaking my clothes.  I gasped in shock, my hands going to my face as the cold water dripped down my skin.   My heart thundered, shock, anger, and humiliation swelling up through me.  "How dare you speak to me like that?" Natasha yelled, the rage inside of her visible on her face.   "See, you're nothing but a pathetic servant girl. You'll never be anything more than that." She spat angrily.   I blinked away the water, my eyes meeting hers. "You don't know anything about me," I spat back, unable to hold back the rage inside of me anymore, my voice trembling with anger. "You don't know what I'm capable of."  "How dare you…" Natasha lifted her hand in anger, but was interrupted as her phone began to ring.   With her hands still raised, her palm open,  she glared at me, her eyes burning with rage, and glared back at her phone before turning away with a huff.  "Don't ever forget your place, Emelda," she hissed over her shoulder as she stormed out of the room. "You are nothing! And would always be nothing!"  I let out a loud cry as I placed my white silk cotton blanket over my mouth to restrict the noise from traveling through the walls of my room.   I sat back onto the bed, my body shaking with anger and fear. I wiped the water from my face, my fingers still trembling, as I tried to calm myself down.  Moments after Natasha's dramatic exit, she bursts back into my room, a triumphant grin stretched across her face.  "Guess who's here?" she crowed, her voice dripping with venom. "Your old, tattered husband is here to take you away!"  Instantly, my heart sank, skipping a beat as I felt color drain from my face.   "What?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.  Natasha claps her hands together, her eyes shining with glee. "Oh yes! Juana is so pleased to finally be rid of you, especially to a regular old man. She asked that I get you."  "Now let's see how you would ever amount to anything." she mocked as she walked out of the room.  I swallowed hard and followed Natasha to the sitting room. My hands trembled as I tried to process what I had just heard.  When I got into the sitting room, my heart sank and my jaw dropped as my eyes fell on the old man waiting for me.  It was the same man I'd helped in the bar, the same man I'd confided in, the man I'd trusted.  Instantly, I became overwhelmed. I was disappointed.   I couldn't believe that someone I thought was kind, someone who seemed to care about me, would want to destroy my future by marrying me. He must be old enough to be my father, if not older.  I swallowed my disgust and managed to force a smile, my eyes locking with his.  "Emelda," the old man called out, his voice soft and gentle. "It's so nice to see you again.   I nodded, my expression neutral. "As am I," I replied courteously, my voice flat and emotionless.  In a few minutes, the old man whom I found out was Jonathan, and Juana rounded up their discussion and bid their goodbyes.   "Shall we?" Jonathan spoke softly as he tried to lift my bag.   Still overwhelmed, I nodded in affirmation.   As we walked down towards the bus stop, He reached out, taking my hand into his. His grip, strong and steady. "I promise you, Emelda, I will treat you with the respect and kindness you deserve."  I turned away, my heart heavy with despair.  In a few minutes, a bus stopped right in front of us. I climbed into the back, sinking into one of the seats as he climbed in beside me. He reached for my hand again, but I pulled away, my gaze fixed on the window as I avoided eye contact.   As the bus took its last commuter and began to move, I couldn't help but wonder what my life would be like now as tears began to build up in the corner of my eyes.  Will I be trapped in a loveless marriage, forced to submit to a man I don't even know?