Arranged

Proposal

"I do."

The two words sealed my fate to the man I barely knew. We could not even meet each other's eyes. The guests cheered around us, clapping and whistling, but it seemed far away to my ears, which were filled with a buzzing sound instead. It was like I was watching my own body from behind a glass window, seeing the frozen smile on my lips, but not feeling my muscles move. What had I got myself into?

*** ONE MONTH EARLIER ***

My father was wise. Or at least, I'd spent my whole life thinking he was. As a business manager for a big, international company, his job took him travelling all over the world. He often took mother with him, leaving me to fend for my younger brother and I. Our parents never treated us badly, don't get me wrong. They always ensured we were left with plenty of resources, food for me to heat up or cook, and they'd call in daily to ensure we were okay when they were away.

Once a year, they'd take us away with them on family holidays, we travelled the world with them too. We had happy, fulfilling lives. At least on the surface, we did.

My parents always offered me love and happiness. They had high expectations of me, but only because they wanted me to succeed, to live to my fullest potential. To grow my wealth and success to father's level and to live a life of comfort.

So it was to their disappointment that I decided to become a teacher. They never said it out loud but I knew. I could see it in their eyes and their half-hearted smiles. Nevertheless, I pursued it. It was fulfilling, and rewarding, and filled the lifelong emptiness in my heart. At least for a while.

I was now 25 years old. It was accepted in our culture that one was to live at home until marriage. Particularly in the current economy, where the cost of living and housing was so high, it was perfectly normal to stay home for as long as you possibly could. Many had asked if I had a boyfriend, or if I was planning on 'settling' down any time soon, and I'd always politely state that I'd wanted to focus on my career. My parents would then swiftly change the topic to their pride and joy, their perfect son who was working so hard and following in his father's footsteps.

My parents had provided me with a perfect life. I had no reason to ever be unhappy, and I hated that I had this dark pit of despair inside me. I could never understand it, and had always done my best to keep myself busy and ignore it. I'd spent my entire life keeping people happy, from my family to my colleagues. I felt like I was just breezing through life, waiting for something, anything to happen.

So imagine my surprise when the ball finally dropped. My parents sat me down, their faces told me that this was going to be a serious conversation. Father began with his tales of all he'd learnt in his travels across the world, and how we should always see the positives around us, and to grasp any opportunity that came our way. This was all things I had heard before, but I could sense that he was building up the conversation to something far more important. The suspense had me fidgeting as I sat on the couch before my parents, waiting for them to explain why they'd called this meeting.

"Zachery Alexander. You've heard of this name?"

I looked up at the sound of the familiar name. Zac Alex was a famous country-turned-pop star whose name had been gracing the headlines for 10 years, when he had been discovered as a 17 year old country boy who could play the guitar and sing in an angelic tone that sent shivers from the tips of your ears down to your very toes. Of course I'd heard of him. Like every teenage girl at the time, I'd been rightfully obsessed with the cute singer who'd released bangers heard on the radio time and time again.

As I'd become older, I'd grown out of my love for him of course. He was no longer a young heartthrob, but instead continued to make headlines for seemingly worse issues every time. He'd grown too, no longer a young innocent teen but rather a 27 year old certifiable bad boy. Covered in tattoos, always captured by paparazzi with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a different thin, blonde, i********: model draping off his arm. He'd made the news for getting into barfights, for having online feuds with other celebrities, and for acting like a jerk to fans who came across him in public. He'd become distasteful, to say the least, and I caught myself grimacing at the thought of this man now.

"Faye?"

Hearing my name on my mother's lips jerked me away from my musings and back to reality. Wait. Why had dad said Zac's name? I had no idea where this conversation was going.

"Sorry, what? What about Zac?"

My father pressed his lips together to hold in his dissatisfaction. He didn't like that I was distracted during this serious conversation. I still had no idea what was going on and apologised again.

"As you know, my work travels have allowed me to meet many important people all over the world. I have been able to network and create many professional relationships. I was recently approached by an investor with an offer for an interesting, and what I think will be, a very profitable business proposal. He has a son, you see. He's looking for someone who can help create a positive image and perhaps keep him away from trouble. He's looking for a girl who has stayed away from the spotlight, who is kind and polite and quiet, and can understand the sensitivity of this situation."

A growing pit of dread spread in my stomach as I listened to my father speak in his direct, soft but commanding voice.

"What are you talking about? What has this got to do with me? And Zac?" My voice grew slightly higher in pitch as I tried to keep calm. I was still so confused but I didn't like the direction this talk was going.

Father took a deep breath. He was struggling to find the words, which was so rare as he was always sure of himself, and often spoke with calmness, confidence and wisdom. Mother seemed to sense his hesitance and placed her arm gently on his shoulder, continuing the conversation herself.

"Faye, my darling. We have a proposition for you. We understand that you are a grown woman who is able to make her own decisions, and you know that we always want you to be happy. We think that this will be a really good move for you and for our entire family as a whole-"

"But what is it?" I cried out, interrupting her. My heart was pounding now, this was too much. Would someone just tell me what was going on?

Father found his words and continued what mother had been saying, his hand now on top of her own. Their touch kept each other grounded. In my anxious state I still noticed and admired the pure love they had for each other.

"The man that approached me on my latest trip to England was someone I'd met before. His name is Corey Alexander. The father of Zachery Alexander. He has had some trouble with his son lately and... well, and is looking for a wife for him. He believes that if he can find someone to ground his son, to keep him out of trouble and out of the headlines for a while, it might set him onto a better path. Corey knows of you because I have always spoken highly of you."

Father's eyes shone with pride at this stage. It warmed my heart and also resolved some of the guilt that always gnawed at the back of my mind, for choosing a career that my parents had not wanted for me.

I opened my mouth to ask one of the many questions burning into my brain in that moment, but father continued in that same, soft yet firm voice that commanded you to listen.

"Faye, my dear, I will always want what's best for you. I have always tried to give you the most suitable advice to help you succeed. Please remember this as you hear us out. Corey Alexander wants you to marry his son." He rushed forward before I could object.

"It is merely a business agreement, and how you choose to live your life after the wedding is entirely up to you, as long as it remains out of the spotlight. You've always loved England, from all the countries we've visited. Well now is your chance to move there for a while, study, teach, do whatever you'd like as long as you agree to marry Zachery and publicly acknowledge him as your husband."

Blood was roaring in my ears. Was I dreaming? This was like some teenage w*****d fanfic come to life. How ridiculous. Was I being offered an arranged marriage? What the ever-loving f**k. Pardon my French. I kept my outward emotions in check, forcing a polite smile on my lips as my parents watched me with bated breaths.

"Um. Can I think about it? Will I get to know him? Is there a contract? What are the exact terms?" I rambled on as my parents gave a relieved chuckle.

"Well you haven't said an immediate no, which is good because I'd really advise against that. There is a contract, I will give you time to read over it and then make your decision. You have exactly 1 week until Corey and his son arrive here for your decision. After which, we will have 3 weeks to plan your dream wedding. Anything that you'd like, Corey and I have agreed to split the costs and fund it all. A month from today you will have wed and be on a plane to England. No, you will not get time to know him, apart from wedding planning, as that is what Corey has requested. You will have plenty of time to work out how your personal relationship will be after the wedding. Of course we'd come visit you as often as we can, and you can come whenever you want, too. Your brother can also perhaps look for work closer to you once he is done with his degree."

My parents knew how close I was to my not-so-little younger brother, who was now 20 but already taller, stronger and probably more mature than me. But they were talking like I'd already agreed, and I'd heard the subtle hint that I pretty much could not say no. I put up my hand to stop the huge flow of information that had just come cascading my way. I'd need time to process all this.

"Give me the contract, and some space please. I will need time to read it and really think about it. I'll let you know in 6 days time, so we are prepared for the Alexander's arrival."

My parents wordlessly handed me a thick booklet that I hadn't even noticed sitting on the side table beside the couch. It was heavy. I picked it up and made my way towards my bedroom. It was going to be a long week.