2.Marriage
1970 Words
--Cassie--
"I'll be in the kitchen," I said, eager to see Mrs. Sofia, and ran into the house. The familiar scent of home filled my senses as I navigated my way to the kitchen.
"Mrs. Sofia!" I called out excitedly.
"Oh, Cassie! I have missed you," she said, enveloping me in a warm, comforting hug.
"You look so grown up, Cassie. Time has flown so fast," she said, her eyes misting with tears.
"I've missed you too, Mrs. Sofia," I replied, feeling a lump in my throat.
"Where is Mr. Patterson?" I asked, referring to her husband.
"He’s out running some errands," she answered.
I glanced around and saw Emily and Roxanna, the newer maids hired just before I left for Canada.
"Hello," I greeted them politely.
"Welcome, Miss Cassie," they responded in unison. Our relationship was cordial but distant since they started working here after my departure.
"Thank you," I said, trying to bridge the gap between us.
I noticed a new face among the staff, a woman who also looked Italian. Not wanting to be rude, I greeted her as well.
"Where are my manners?" Mrs. Sofia said, suddenly remembering her role.
"This is Gracia, a new maid," Mrs. Sofia said, gesturing to a young woman standing nearby.
"Hello, Gracia, it is nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand to her. She looked shocked but quickly composed herself.
"Hi," she responded, her Italian accent evident.
"I cooked your favorite pasta for you," Mrs. Sofia said with a warm smile.
"Really?" I exclaimed, feeling a rush of nostalgia. I hadn’t tasted her pasta in four years.
"Can I have some now?" I asked eagerly.
"Of course, sit at the table," she instructed. I walked over to the dining table, a place of many fond memories. I always preferred eating in the kitchen, enjoying the company of those who prepared the meals.
"Here you go," Mrs. Sofia said, placing a steaming plate of pasta in front of me.
"Thank you," I muttered, grabbing a fork and diving into the dish. The familiar, comforting taste of cheese and perfectly cooked pasta filled my mouth.
"You're welcome," she said, walking away to tend to other duties. The pasta was as delicious as I remembered, and I couldn't help but savor every bite.
"Your pasta is the best, Mrs. Sofia," I declared between mouthfuls.
"I thought you might have missed it since you loved it so much and wanted to eat it every single day," she said with a laugh.
In about five minutes, my plate was clean. I looked up to see Gracia watching me with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
"I'm not usually like this. I just really love her food," I explained, feeling a bit self-conscious about how quickly I had devoured the pasta. Gracia smiled, her expression softening. She seemed like a cool person, and I hoped we would get along well.
She appeared to be around twenty-two years old and was quite pretty.
"Mrs. Sofia, thank you for the pasta. I’m going to freshen up a bit before meeting Dad," I said, standing up.
"Okay, see you later," she replied with a nod.
"Thank you," I repeated, heading out of the kitchen. I took the familiar stairs up to my room, a space frozen in time since I had left four years ago. Everything was just as I remembered.
I walked over to the nightstand and picked up my phone, a brand-new model from Apple. I smiled, feeling grateful, and made a mental note to thank Dad later.
I plugged the phone in to charge and headed into the bathroom. The sight of the familiar tiles and fixtures brought back a flood of memories. I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about what Dad needed to talk to me about.
After a quick shower, I felt refreshed and ready to face whatever awaited me.
I slipped out of my dress, feeling the weight of the past four years settling on my shoulders. As I stood before the mirror, I couldn't help but notice the resemblance to my mom, with her blue eyes and wavy brown hair. Stepping into the bathtub, I let the warm water wash away the fatigue of the journey, wrapping myself in a fresh-smelling towel from the wardrobe. Every item in this room seemed meticulously cleaned, undoubtedly in anticipation of my return.
Moving to the closet, I sifted through my dresses, but none seemed to fit anymore. Frowning, I scanned the room until my eyes landed on my suitcase beside the bed. With a sense of relief, I unzipped it, selecting a pair of ripped jeans and a crop top. After applying lotion to my skin, I tied my hair into a neat bun, studying my reflection in the mirror. It was strange seeing how much I had changed over the years.
I flopped onto the bed, retrieving my phone from the nightstand. Surprisingly, it already had a SIM card inserted. Excitedly, I scrolled through my contacts, finding the numbers of Hailey and Michelle. With a quick dial, I waited anxiously for them to pick up.
"Hello?" I heard their voices simultaneously.
"Are you back in America?" I inquired eagerly.
"Yes, we just landed. We were on the same flight," they replied in unison.
"I arrived about an hour ago," I informed them.
"We'll come over to your house tomorrow," they offered.
"Sure," I agreed.
"I have to go now. We just landed," Hailey said, ending the call.
"Okay, see you girls tomorrow," I said before hanging up. Yawning, I decided to take a nap before Dad returned from work. I needed to be well-rested to share everything with him.
As I settled onto the pillow, a voice interrupted my drowsiness.
"Cassie," Mrs. Sofia called softly.
I opened my eyes to find her standing by the door.
"Your dad is back and would like to meet you in his office," she informed me.
"Thank you," I replied, quickly rising from the bed. Gathering the items I wanted to show him, including the photos from yesterday's ceremony and my valedictorian certificate, I followed Mrs. Sofia to Dad's office.
Knocking gently, I heard his invitation to enter. Rushing to his side, I embraced him tightly.
"I've missed you so much, Cassie," he said, his voice filled with emotion.
"Me too, Dad," I replied, noticing the tears in his eyes.
"Why are you crying, Dad?" I asked, concern lacing my tone.
"Nothing, Cassie. I'm just happy," he assured me, though I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
"I've brought you the pictures from yesterday's ceremony," I said, showing him the photos proudly.
"Yes, your school called to congratulate you me on being valedictorian," he said, his face lighting up with pride.
"I promised I would make you proud," I said, beaming.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it. There was something urgent I had to attend to," he explained, his voice tinged with regret.
"It's okay, Dad," I reassured him.
"My princess has grown so much," Dad remarked, his smile bittersweet as he held up my certificate.
"Feel free to hang it in your office. It's yours," I said, wanting to make him happy.
"Let me take this call. I'll be back," he said, excusing himself from the room.
As I waited, I couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in the office decor. It looked more modern now, a departure from its previous style.
"Who was that, Dad?" I inquired upon his return.
"I need to discuss something with you, Cassie," he said, his expression somber.
"What's wrong?" I asked, sensing the gravity of his tone.
"You're getting married in a month," he dropped the bombshell, leaving me stunned and speechless.
"I am just eighteen," I said to him.
"I know, Cassie," he said.
"You know nothing, Dad," I said, the frustration evident in my voice as tears welled in my eyes. I turned away, unable to comprehend why he would want this for me.
I walked out of the room, my emotions in turmoil. How could Dad expect me to marry a total stranger? Someone I knew nothing about? The very idea sent shivers down my spine. I had plans—dreams that didn't involve being tied down so soon. I wanted to go to university, to study, to prepare for a future where I could make my mark on the world. I wanted to take over the family business, to ease Dad's burden so he could finally rest. There were so many things I wanted to do before even considering marriage.
As I walked into my room and locked the door behind me, tears streamed down my cheeks. The weight of my father's expectations and the crushing reality of the situation pressed down on me. How could he do this to me? Didn't he understand my dreams and aspirations?
"Cassie," I heard Mrs. Sofia's voice call from outside my door.
"Go away, I don't want to speak to anyone right now," I replied, my voice trembling with emotion.
"Just hear him out, Cassie," Mrs. Sofia urged gently.
"I just want to be alone, Mrs. Sofia," I insisted, my heart heavy with defiance.
"Okay, I will leave you alone so you can think about it," she conceded softly before walking away.
Alone in my room, I cried until exhaustion overtook me and I drifted into a fitful sleep.
The next morning, the sun's rays gently woke me, but the events of yesterday rushed back into my mind, and fresh tears welled in my eyes. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but first, I needed a moment to collect myself. I walked into the bathroom, shedding my clothes mechanically. In the mirror, I saw my red, puffy eyes—a reflection of the turmoil within me. I stepped into the bathtub, letting the warm water wash away some of the emotional turmoil.
Eventually, I dressed in a plain, straight dress, lacking the energy or desire to adorn myself. With each step towards the dining table, I felt the weight of my decision weighing me down. I wanted to avoid everyone's gaze, to shield myself from their pity or judgment.
To my surprise, Dad was already seated at the table, dressed casually. His presence startled me; I had expected him to have gone to work.
"Don't run away from me, young lady," Dad's voice halted me in my tracks as I turned to leave.
I faced him squarely, my resolve faltering under his gaze. "I just... I don't want to get married, please," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You think I'm happy about this arrangement? Cassie, I love you more than anything," Dad's voice cracked with emotion, tears welling in his eyes.
"Then why, Dad?" I asked, my voice trembling with hurt and confusion.
And then, he began to explain—about the debts, the financial strain on the family business, the choices he had to make to ensure our survival. My heart ached as he recounted the burden he had been carrying alone, shielding me from the harsh realities of our situation.
"It started five years ago..." Dad's voice trailed off as he recounted the series of unfortunate events that had led us to this moment.
"Why didn't you tell me, Dad?" I asked softly, guilt and understanding mingling in my heart.
"I wanted to protect you, Cassie. I wanted you to focus on your education, on your dreams," Dad replied, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.
"But now... this marriage..." I struggled to find words to express the storm of emotions raging inside me.
"The grandfather of Leonardo De Luca," Dad continued, "he sees you as the solution to our problems. If you marry his son, the debts will be settled. The company will be safe."
- Writer
