The Deception

Chapter1 signed contract

Cathrina's POV

My fingers trembled as I signed the marriage contract, a chill running down my spine. I could feel the weight of my father's cold, calculating gaze boring into me, a mixture of desperation and resignation etched across his face. This was it—the moment that sealed my fate.

I had always envisioned my wedding day filled with laughter, champagne toasts, and the beauty of love. But now, as I prepared to leave the room, the reality was starkly different. Ethan, the man I was forced to marry, flashed a smug smile in my direction. “Mrs. Thompson, you should smile! "This is your family's chance to get back on track,” he taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

His irritating tone was like a chokehold around my throat. I couldn’t bear the thought of sharing a single room with him; everything about him set me on edge. Ignoring him, I turned on my heel and marched towards my father's car, desperate to escape.

“Cathrina, slow down!” my father called after me, desperation threading through his voice. His words felt like a tether, pulling me back to a reality I wished to escape. I couldn't disappoint him, but the thought of marrying Ethan turned my stomach in knots. “Dad, the weather is turning gloomy, and I’d hate for us to get soaked before we even get into the car, right?” I said, hoping to steer the conversation away from Ethan with my father. As we settled into the car, I braced myself for the questions I knew were coming.

“Cathrina,” my father called gently, and I replied, “Yes, Father.” His voice was concerned as he continued, “I understand that this may be a difficult time for you after signing the contract, and I truly regret…” I interrupted him, feeling the weight of the situation. There was no need to finish; I knew how he felt. The thought of marrying into the Thompsons’ family made me feel uneasy. “It’s okay, Dad. You don’t need to say anything more. I understand.” Tears blurred my vision until I got home; I just needed to be alone in bed to process everything.

As soon as I stepped through the front door, I dashed to my room, locked the door behind me, and grabbed my phone, my cheeks wet with tears. I desperately needed to talk to someone—my best friend Sylvia was the first person who came to mind. I dialed her number, my heart racing as the phone rang. When she answered, her voice came through with a soft, “Hello, Cath.”

But in that moment, an all-consuming silence stretched between us. I hesitated, unsure if I should share the turmoil I’d just experienced. After all, Sylvia and Mr. Thompson had a complicated history from their college days, and I couldn’t figure out how to find the words to explain what had happened. The weight of my thoughts felt too heavy, and before I could decide, I ended the call.

Just as I set my phone down, I heard a gentle knock at my door. I knew perfectly well who it was, but I couldn’t help but ask anyway, my voice trembling slightly. “Who’s there?”

“It is your mother, Cathrina. Please open the door,” she stated gently, prompting me to prepare for what lay ahead. As I opened the door, my gaze met my mother’s, and I observed the deep sorrow etched on her face. She embraced me tightly and expressed, “I understand that this is not the life you envisioned, and I regret that I cannot do anything to extricate you from this situation, my dear.” Her voice was soft yet filled with an unbearable weight.

“Mother, please do not cry. You should find comfort in the fact that once we resolve our debts, we will be more liberated than ever,” I replied, attempting to lift her spirits.

She smiled at me and I smiled back “l’ll leave you to tidy up dear it’s late already try and get some sleep goodnight”. She said relieved. “I will goodnight mother sleep tight”. As the door opened for my mother to leave my father was outside my bedroom exactly clueless of what he was doing his gaze at mine and I shut the door completely without a single word.

After taking a refreshing cold shower, I was preparing for sleep when my phone began to ring. Out of curiosity regarding the caller's identity, I answered the call. “Mr. Thompson?” I inquired.

“Good evening, Charm. I presumed you would be asleep by now,” he responded.

I sighed inwardly, feeling irritated by his choice of address and the timing of the call, especially given our previous interactions. “I was about to retire for the night, but I noticed your call. Is there an issue, Mr. Thompson?” I asked, my tone reflective of my concern.

“Not at all. Please, refer to me as Ethan,” he replied.

“Yes, sir.”

He expressed audible displeasure, stating, “Please do not address me as sir, Cathrina. Goodnight.” He concluded the call abruptly.

I was left with a mixture of coldness and annoyance, contemplating why he seemed upset by my use of "sir." Furthermore, I found myself pondering the implications of his call, how he had obtained my number, and the unexpected endearment he used, referring to me as “charm.” This thought brought a slight smirk to my face.

The next day, I heard a loud bang on my door. “Cathrina, open the door!” She continued knocking. “Jeez Louise!” I finally opened the door.

“What is wrong with you? I’ve been banging on the door for over an hour!”

“Uhm, it’s too early for all of this. What are you doing here?” I mumbled, one eye still closed and my hair disheveled, feeling worried.

“Early? The time is 12noon! Wake up, dummy.”

“You're getting married,” she said, her excitement spilling over.

“Excuse me?” I replied, confused and curious about how she found out and if she knew who I was engaged to.

“Come on now, you need to get dressed! But why didn’t you tell me you were engaged to God knows who?” she asked, a huge smile on her face, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

I could hardly contain the excitement bubbling inside me any longer. It was time to spill the big news! “Sylvia, I need to tell you something!” I called out, and she instantly stopped what she was doing, sensing the gravity of my words. “I’m engaged to Ethan Thompson!” I blurted out, watching her eyes widen with disbelief. “Really?” she exclaimed, her surprise mirroring my joy. “Yes! I tried to tell you yesterday, but I just couldn’t find the right moment!”

“It’s fine; he’s my past anyway! I’m genuinely happy for you, but just a heads-up—Ethan can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, so make sure to stand your ground.” We both burst into laughter, and I felt a huge wave of relief wash over me, knowing there were no hard feelings between us.

With that weight lifted, we headed off for my wedding gown fitting—Can you believe my fake wedding is just around the corner? The excitement was palpable!