NO MORE TIME
963 Words
Escape From You
Episode Three: No More Time
Amara told her family the next morning.
They were gathered around the small dining table, untouched breakfast growing cold between them. Her mother noticed first that something was wrong.
“Baby,” she said softly. “What is it?”
Amara folded her hands together to stop them from shaking.
“I agreed to Mr. Blackwood’s offer.”
The words fell heavy in the room.
Her father froze.
Her mother’s face drained of color.
Her brother stared at her in confusion.
“You… agreed?” her father whispered.
Amara nodded.
“I’m going to marry him.”
Her mother covered her mouth.
“No,” she cried. “No, Amara—please tell me this is a joke.”
“It’s not,” Amara said quietly. “The debt will be cleared. You’ll keep the apartment. Mom’s treatment will be covered. Malik’s tuition too.”
Her father stood abruptly.
“This is not happening,” he said fiercely. “I will not let my daughter sell herself because of my mistakes.”
Amara rose too.
“You’re not selling me,” she replied, voice cracking. “You’re letting me protect you.”
Tears slid down her mother’s cheeks.
Her brother finally spoke.
“You don’t even love him.”
Amara swallowed.
“I don’t have to.”
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Her father turned away, shoulders shaking.
Her mother pulled Amara into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I failed you.”
Amara closed her eyes and held her mother like it might be the last time.
Telling her friends was harder.
They met at their usual café booth after Amara finished her shift. Maya nearly dropped her drink when Amara explained.
“You’re marrying your landlord?” Maya said in disbelief. “The billionaire?”
Amara nodded weakly.
“For two years.”
“That’s insane,” Maya whispered. “You can’t let him do this.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
Her other friend, Jordan, leaned forward.
“There’s always a choice.”
Amara forced a smile.
“Not when your family is drowning.”
They hugged her tightly, promising to call, to visit, to never let her disappear.
Amara didn’t tell them she already felt like she was fading.
Lucien called that evening.
“Why aren’t you here?”
Amara held the phone against her ear while standing in her childhood bedroom.
“I asked for a few days,” she said. “I need time to settle my personal life.”
There was a pause.
“You had your time.”
“It’s only been one day.”
Lucien’s voice turned cold.
“I don’t repeat myself, Amara.”
She clenched her jaw.
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Another silence.
“Tonight,” he corrected.
Her heart sank.
“I can’t. Please—just give me until the end of the week.”
“You’re testing my patience.”
She hung up shaking.
By the next morning, two black SUVs were parked outside her apartment building.
Neighbors peeked through curtains.
Her parents rushed toward her in panic.
“Amara, what’s happening?”
She barely had time to answer before Lucien stepped out of the car.
Tall. Immaculate. Furious.
His eyes went straight to her.
“I told you to come.”
Amara stepped forward.
“I just needed time—”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Her father moved between them.
“You will not speak to my daughter like that.”
Lucien finally looked at him.
“This ended when you signed my contract.”
Amara felt sick.
She grabbed her coat.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to her parents. “I’ll call you.”
Her mother clung to her.
“Please be careful.”
Lucien didn’t wait.
He opened the car door himself.
Not roughly.
Not gently.
Commandingly.
Amara climbed inside, heart racing.
The door shut with a final sound.
The penthouse felt colder than before.
Lucien led her straight to his office.
The contract waited on the desk.
“You delayed me,” he said flatly.
“I was saying goodbye.”
“You belong here now.”
The words made her chest tighten.
“I’m not your possession.”
Lucien stepped closer.
“You signed that right away.”
She met his gaze.
“Then why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”
For a moment, his expression flickered.
Then it hardened.
“Sit.”
She obeyed.
The lawyer arrived shortly after. Papers were explained. Clauses highlighted. Two years. Public marriage. Shared residence. Confidentiality.
Amara barely heard any of it.
Her signature appeared on the page.
Lucien signed next.
Just like that, her old life ended.
Her belongings arrived that evening.
Two suitcases.
That was all she had been allowed to bring.
Lucien showed her to a guest bedroom down the hall.
“You’ll stay here.”
She looked around the massive space, the expensive furniture, the silent walls.
“This doesn’t feel like home.”
Lucien paused at the doorway.
“It will.”
She sat on the edge of the bed after he left.
Everything felt unreal.
Her phone buzzed with messages from Maya, from Jordan, from her mother.
She typed back that she was okay.
It was a lie.
As night fell, Amara stood at the floor-to-ceiling window and stared at the city below.
Somewhere down there was her family.
Her friends.
Her freedom.
And now she was here.
Trapped in a penthouse with a man who believed control was love and contracts were bonds.
She pressed her hand against the glass and whispered to herself,
“Just survive.”
Because for now, escape was no longer an option.
- Writer
