Mr Billionaire's Perfect Match

New begining

Two years later, at 19, I'm thrilled to be starting my exchange program on a stunning campus. I've fallen in love with the university library and can't stop raving about it. My dad, 28, shares my enthusiasm, though he initially disapproved of my move to Washington. My mom, sitting beside him, understands my perspective, but Dad's concerns persist. "Remember the rules?" he asks, his eyes scrutinizing me. I sigh, knowing what's coming. "Six months, Nevaeh. That's a significant time." He sounds almost offended, as if I'm leaving for an eternity. I'm only away for one semester, but he's making it seem like forever. Mom reassures him, reminding him of the benefits of this program, which he eventually agreed to. I nod, reciting the rules: no drinking, no clubbing, no walking alone at night, and no talking to strangers. Dad adds, "And no boys. Absolutely no boys." I pout, feeling my love life is doomed. Mom smiles softly, trying to ease the tension.

"As we agreed, there are conditions," Dad reminds me, his voice firm. I nod, taking a bite of my steak. "No drinking," I recite. "No drinking," he echoes, crossing his arms. "No clubbing." "No clubbing," he confirms, waiting for me to continue. "No walking alone at night," I add. "That's right," he says, wagging his finger. "And no talking to strangers." I drop my utensils, frustrated. "I'm not a child," I say, my voice laced with exasperation. Mom watches us, amused, shaking her head. Dad gives me a stern look. "You're not, but there are dangers out there—" "I get it," I interrupt, not wanting to hear his warnings. "Good," he says, then squints at me. I know that look. I haven't mentioned the most important rule. "And no boys," I say, defeated. "No boys, absolutely no boys," he repeats, his authority unwavering. I pout, stabbing my meat. "My love life is doomed," I mutter. "I'll never meet my soulmate." "Your soulmate isn't in college," Dad corrects, shrugging before returning to his lunch. "You're not a psychic," I say, rolling my eyes. Dad's overprotectiveness is suffocating; he won't even let me stay in a co-ed dorm, fearing stalkers. Instead, he's rented a secure apartment for me, which I think is an unnecessary expense. I'm convinced he's a bit crazy.

"How do you know I won't meet my soulmate in college?" I ask, challenging Dad's assumption. He responds with confidence, "That's obvious. You're not allowed to date yet, so you'll meet him years from now." I'm taken aback, "Years? How long? Until I'm 30?" Dad nods, while Mom sighs, knowing this conversation is going nowhere. I point out, "You and Mom met in high school." Dad's expression falters, and he tries to justify, "That was complicated—" I interrupt, "Max is already engaged, and he's only a year older than me!" Dad sighs and looks at Mom for support, but she raises her eyebrows, unconvinced. He turns back to me, "Max is a true gentleman. Besides, Sienna isn't allowed to date either—" I protest, "Sienna can't date until she's 25! You're worse than Uncle Vaughn!" My outburst draws attention from nearby diners, and I bury my face in my hands. Dad chuckles, "You're right. I'm worse than him." I give up, knowing I'll lose this argument. As we part ways, I hug Mom tightly, "I'll miss you." She reassures me, "You'll have a great time here. Loosen up, have fun, meet new friends, and don't stress too much." Her words contradict Dad's rules, but she just wants me to be happy.

We share a simultaneous sigh, and I struggle to hold back tears. This is my first time living alone, away from them. Dad opens his arms wide, embracing me like I'm five years old again. His hug conveys his reluctance to let me go. Though he acts tough, I know he'll show his emotions once he's with Mom in the car. I won't be surprised if Mom has to reassure him again during their journey home. "Don't worry about me," I say, trying to sound brave. My heart swells seeing the sadness in his eyes. It's surreal that Dad is finally allowing me to live a thousand miles away, but it's time he gave me some independence. One semester is shorter than four years, after all. "Remember the most important rule?" he asks, and I furrow my brows. Ah, yes - answering their calls. I grin, and we share another hug. The most important thing is honesty and not hiding anything from them. "Remember," he says with a warning look, "don't skip meals." I fight the urge to roll my eyes, but I'll miss his nosy side. As I watch Mom and Dad drive away, my heart battles with mixed emotions. I'm eager to live on my own, but it's hard to be away from them. No matter how great my new place is, Mom and Dad will always be my safe haven. Dad rolls down the car window, and I wave goodbye, trying to sound cheerful despite the sadness. "We'll see each other again soon, honey. I love you." Mom smiles, knowing they'll visit me soon. "I love you too." I squeeze her hand, watching as Dad drives away, his emotions evident behind the wheel.

"I love you, Dad." He smiles and sighs, "I love you more." After our goodbyes, Dad drives away, and I watch until the car disappears behind the gate. I turn to face the towering building before me - my new apartment. The sun's rays hit my face, and I shield my eyes with my hand. The building is one of the most luxurious I've seen, a high-class apartment that makes me wish Dad hadn't splurged on it. But arguing with him was futile; he only wants the best for me, especially when it comes to safety and security. I squint at the penthouse on top, remembering a staff member mentioning the owner lives there. Whoever it is must be incredibly wealthy to own this stunning property. With determination, I step back into the apartment, making a promise to myself: I'll make the most of my time in Washington and excel in this university exchange program. A voice in my head adds, "And, of course, follow Dad's rules."