Tied by Vows, Torn by Secrets

I still remember the exact moment my world shifted. It started so casually, too casually for something so life-altering. We were all seated at the dining table, the usual quiet tension hanging in the air, when my dad suddenly spoke. “You’re getting married.” At first, I didn’t even react. I assumed he was talking to my sister. It made more sense she was older, more prepared for something like that. But then the silence stretched a little too long, and I noticed everyone was staring at me. “Who? Me?” I asked, almost laughing because it sounded ridiculous. But my dad didn’t laugh. He didn’t even soften. He just looked at me with that same unreadable expression, the one that always meant he had already made up his mind. “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, hoping desperately that this was some kind of joke. “I’m not,” he replied flatly. And just like that, I knew this wasn’t up for discussion. But I wasn’t about to sit there and accept it either. “You can’t do that,” I said, my voice rising despite my attempt to stay calm. I turned to my mum, searching her face for some sign that she would step in. “He can’t do that, can he?” She looked at me with something that almost resembled pity, and that made it worse. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said softly. “It’s something that has to happen. You just have to go along with it.” Her words hit me harder than my dad’s. I expected firmness from him but from her, I had hoped for understanding. “So that’s it?” I asked, my voice shaking now. “You’re just going to marry me off to someone I don’t even know? Someone I’ve never met? Someone I don’t love?” She tried to explain, tried to dress it up as something good for me, something necessary, but I couldn’t hear it. All I could feel was anger rising inside me, hot and uncontrollable. “Damn right you love me!” I snapped, pushing my chair back so suddenly it screeched loudly against the floor. I didn’t even care about the noise. I didn’t care about anything anymore. “Young lady, behave yourself,” my dad said, his voice sharp and commanding. But I was past the point of calming down. “No, I won’t!” I shot back. “What kind of family does this? Marrying their daughter off like she’s some sort of transaction? Don’t I get a say in my own life? Or does what I feel not matter at all?” My voice cracked at the end, and I hated that it did. I hated that they could see how much this was affecting me. “No, you don’t,” he said coldly. “You’re getting married. That’s final.” Final. That word echoed in my head like a door slamming shut. I turned to my sister then, hoping, just hoping that she would be on my side. But the look on her face told me everything before she even spoke. She already knew. She had been part of this. “You knew?” I asked quietly. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. I let out a bitter laugh. “Wow. My own family,” I said, shaking my head. “And here I was thinking I actually meant something to you.” The sarcasm in my voice didn’t even begin to cover the hurt. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I turned and walked away before anyone could see the tears threatening to spill. “Where do you think you’re going?” my dad called after me. “I’m not hungry anymore,” I muttered, not bothering to look back. Once I got to my room, I shut the door behind me and just stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. But it didn’t make sense. None of it did. I was getting married. To a stranger. I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know his age. I didn’t know anything about him. And yet, somehow, I was expected to spend the rest of my life with him. The thought made my chest tighten. I grabbed my phone with slightly shaky hands and texted the one person I knew I could count on. We need to talk. Isa didn’t waste time. Within five minutes, my phone rang. “Hey, Cassie! What’s going on?” she said brightly. Hearing her voice almost made me break down right there. We had this habit of calling each other by our middle names. My name is Cassandra Megan Matthews, though I’ve always hated “Cassie,” which is exactly why she insists on using it. And her name is Isabella Lucia Collins, so I call her Isa. “I’m getting married,” I said. There was a pause. Then a loud scream burst through the phone, making me pull it away from my ear. “Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, clearly excited. “Because I just found out today,” I replied, my tone flat. Another pause—this time longer. “Okay… now I’m confused,” she said slowly. “My family just told me tonight,” I explained. “They’ve already decided everything.” “To who?” she asked. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know.” The silence that followed felt heavier than anything. “I don’t even know who I’m supposed to marry,” I added, my voice quieter now. I could feel tears building, but I blinked them back. “Are you crying?” she asked gently. “Not yet,” I said. “I don’t think it’s fully hit me.” “Well, it’s going to,” she said softly. “And when it does, you’re not dealing with it alone. I’ll be at your place first thing tomorrow morning.” A small part of me felt relieved at that. “Please don’t cry tonight,” she added. “Try to stay strong. I love you.” “I’ll try,” I said. “I love you too.” After we hung up, I dropped my phone on the dresser and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind wouldn’t stop racing. Every possible thought, every fear, every question flooded in all at once. Who was he? What if he was horrible? What if I was stuck in a life I didn’t choose… forever? The more I thought about it, the worse it felt. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and my eyes drifted shut. But even as I fell asleep, one thought lingered, louder than all the others I was being forced to marry a stranger. And it terrified me.