The Unwanted Marriage

Chapter 2

“I’m getting married? No way, Dad. I won’t let that happen!” I snapped, my voice trembling with disbelief. “I just graduated college five months ago!”

Frustration bubbled in my chest as I shrugged off my jacket and flung it onto the couch. I’d barely walked in from my coffee date with Clara when Dad called me home, promising he had some great news. Turns out, great now meant life-altering decisions made without my consent.

He rolled his wheelchair slowly toward me, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Darling, I know it’s sudden… but we stand to gain so much from this.”

His calmness only made me angrier. “Benefit?” I echoed, my heart pounding. “Is that what this is about now? Trading me off like some bargain?”

“I will never trade my little princess off,” he said.

“Benefit?” I repeated, standing to pace the living room. “Dad, you can’t seriously expect me to just smile and nod at this like it’s some charity deal!”

He sighed heavily, resting his hands on the wheels of his chair. “Alice, please. Just listen”

“No,” I cut in sharply. “I already heard enough. Mr. Damian already called me. I met him at his mansion today. He laid out his entire plan, your medical bills, my rent, the job offer… and the part where I’m supposed to marry his son like this is some medieval alliance. And I turned him down.”

Dad’s face fell, but I didn’t flinch.

“I told him no,” I repeated firmly, my voice cracking slightly. “Because I’m not for sale, Dad.”

“You’re not,” he said softly. “But sometimes in life, we don’t get to make choices based on freedom we make them out of love, out of responsibility.”

I turned away, my throat tightening. “You think marrying a stranger is love? Or responsibility?”

“I think letting an opportunity pass that could secure your future and mine is something you’ll regret,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

But I couldn’t agree. Not now. Not when everything in me screamed this wasn’t right.

I stood still for a moment, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. My eyes burned with the threat of tears, but I blinked them away and faced him again.

“What about my dreams, Dad?” I asked quietly.

He looked up, startled by the shift in my voice. “What?”

“My dreams,” I repeated, louder now, more desperate. “What happens to them if I say yes? What about the architectural firm I want to build one day? The career I’ve worked my whole life for? You told me to chase them. You believed in me once.”

“I still do,” he said, eyes glossy. “But life is not just about dreams, Alice. It’s also about survival.”

“No, Dad. Life is about choosing what matters to you,” I said, taking a step closer. “You matter to me. I would work three jobs if I had to. I just need you to stand with me on this. Help me figure it out like we always do.”

He dropped his gaze, guilt settling in the lines of his tired face.

“We’ve been living in debt for the past five months,” he murmured. “I’ve been hiding the hospital bills from you… the rent, everything. I didn’t want you to worry. But there’s no more room to hide it now.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, heart hammering. Five months? All this time?

But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t scream, or cry, or even argue anymore.

“I’m sorry, Alice,” he whispered. “But I’m tired. And I’m scared.”

“I am too,” I whispered back, my voice barely audible. “But this isn’t the answer.”

I turned away, my shoulders stiff with emotion, and walked down the hallway in silence. I couldn’t argue anymore. Not tonight.

When I reached my room, I shut the door gently behind me, locking out the world for a little while. I kicked off my shoes, crawled into bed fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling.

And in the quiet, I wondered how everything had come crashing down so fast.

The house was dark and still, the kind of quiet that felt heavy on the chest. I’d dozed off without realizing it, curled up on top of the covers with my thoughts swirling like a storm. But somewhere past midnight, a dryness in my throat stirred me awake.

I rubbed my eyes and dragged myself out of bed, barefoot against the cool wooden floor. I made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, not bothering to turn on the lights. The moonlight spilling in through the window was enough.

But just as I stepped into the living room, something caught the corner of my eye.

A shape. On the floor.

My heart stopped.

“Dad?” I whispered, panic already choking me.

He was lying motionless near the couch, one arm twisted awkwardly, his chest barely moving. The glass he must’ve been holding had shattered nearby, water spreading across the floor.

“Dad!” I screamed this time, rushing over and falling to my knees beside him. “Dad, can you hear me?”

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t respond.

I bolted to the door and screamed for help. Within minutes, two neighbors came rushing over. Together, we lifted him into one of their cars and raced to the nearest hospital, my hands trembling the entire way as I held onto him and begged him to stay awake.

The waiting room was a blur of harsh lights and cold plastic chairs. Time slowed into something cruel. Finally, after what felt like forever, a doctor in pale blue scrubs approached me.

“Are you his daughter?” he asked gently.

“Yes. Is he okay?” I stood immediately, clutching the edge of my jacket.

“He’s stable now. But your father has not been taking his medications for a while. His condition has worsened because of that. We’ll need to keep him here for a few days under close observation.”

I nodded slowly, my heart pounding.

“But that’s not all,” the doctor continued, glancing down at the clipboard in his hand. “We’ll need to start a new round of medication immediately. It’s… expensive. Around five thousand dollars, maybe more, depending on how he responds.”

Five thousand?

I felt the ground shift under me.

“I don’t have that kind of money,” I whispered, as shame washed over me like a wave.

The doctor’s eyes softened. “We’ll do what we can to stabilize him for now, but you’ll need to decide quickly. The earlier we start, the better his chances.”

I nodded again, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I went back to the hallway and sat on the bench, numb and lost, as the machines beeped behind the glass walls.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

This wasn’t just about dreams anymore.

It was about my father’s life.

I pulled out my phone with trembling hands, stared at the screen for a long minute… then scrolled down until I found the number.

Mr. Damian.

I stared at it for a moment longer, then finally pressed the call button.

It rang twice before he answered.

“Hello?” His voice was calm. Controlled.

“It’s Alice,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “About your offer… I’ll do it.”