Betrothed To a Stranger

Alice POV* I strained to hear the hushed words exchanged between my mother and the man who had entered the room only moments before. Curiosity had always been one of my characteristics that differentiated me from my much more composed sister, Isla. "I want the beautiful brunette girl over there," he said, his voice cutting through the air as if he wanted me specifically to hear. Instinctively, I turned to look their way, and my heart skipped a beat when I met my mother's gaze. She looked sad, and it seemed as though she was fighting back the tide of tears that threatened to spill over. "Alice, darling, come over here," she called softly, her voice a mixture of warmth and desperation, just audible enough for me to catch. I glanced at my big sister, Isla, who was standing just beside me. She offered me a gentle smile, one that exuded reassurance, and patted my shoulder gently. It was as if she were silently saying, "Don't be scared. I'm right here with you." That small gesture, so simple yet so profound, was enough to steady my wildly beating heart. With a forced smile that didn't quite reach my eyes, I took hesitant steps toward my mother, our eyes locked in an uneasy exchange. The silence between us felt heavy, each second dragging on, and I could feel my stomach churn with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. "Mmmhmmm," a deep voice sliced through the tension, breaking the silence. I shifted my gaze but didn't bother to look at the young man standing beside me; he seemed like the least of my concerns in that moment. "Is everything fine, Mother?" I managed to ask, my voice laced with a mix of hope and dread. "Yes, yes," she replied, her tone a bit too bright, almost rehearsed. "This is Alice, my youngest daughter," she announced to him, with a smile, like that sad look she saw in her eyes were never there. If there's something she was really good at aside from knitting, it was pretending. "And Alice, this is..." Before she could finish, he cut in, "Your husband-to-be." The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, as if they were a declaration that could alter the course of my life in an instant. My heart raced, and a million thoughts whirled in my mind, but I was left standing there, speechless and trembling, caught in the web of their plans. "Is this a way to punish me?" The words spilled out before I had a chance to think. It was a reflexive thought, one that stemmed from a place of raw hurt and confusion. It felt as though my mother was casting me aside, a punishment for the death of my father. As the realization sank in, hot tears streamed down my cheeks, my chest felt heavy, as though something was squeezing, leaving me gasping for breath. I questioned myself, wondering if I truly deserved this abandonment. My mother's voice cut through the fog of my thoughts, "ALICE." pulling me back from the overwhelming abyss. I blinked, realizing my mother had been speaking to me for quite some time. My hands throbbed painfully, and only then did I notice the broken glass I was holding. I hadn’t even registered breaking it, too lost in my storm of emotions. Isla, my sister, stood in front of me, her brow furrowed with concern, her brown eyes wide. "I will get the first aid box," she said urgently, darting from the room. Turning my gaze back to the young man in the corner, I found him watching me intently. His expression was unpredictable, a mask of indifference that made my heart race. I felt exposed under his gaze, a mix of vulnerability and shame washing over. "It's fine, let her leave. She probably needs some time to process everything," he said, his voice carrying a casual air that made my stomach twist. But his next words sent a surge of anger through me: "After the wedding, we will have the whole time to ourselves." I turned to him, my heart heavy and tears welling in my beautiful brown eyes. How could he be so callous "Devil," I murmured, just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, the sting of my words hanging in the air like a challenge. Determined not to let my mother's judgment amplify my fury, I stormed out of the room and made my way to my bedroom. I quickly locked the door.