LOVE MONEY AND PRIDE

CHAPTER 1:3 ARRANGED MARRIAGE

Alissa’s Goodbye (~1,200 words)

The ticking of the antique clock on the living room wall seemed louder than usual, each second scraping against my nerves like sandpaper. I sat on the edge of the sofa, my fingers fumbling with the satin ribbon tied around the last gift box, though I’d long lost interest in what was inside.

It didn’t matter if it was another pair of designer shoes or an expensive handbag. None of it could drown out the truth—that every ribbon I untied, every glittering bow I unwrapped, was another chain fastening me to a future I never wanted.

A future I had chosen.

A deep sigh slipped past my lips as I placed the box aside. My gaze drifted to the window. Outside, the street was quiet, bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. In a few hours, I’d be gone from this house.

Gone from the life I knew.

The sharp clink of porcelain broke through my thoughts. Aunt Marge emerged from the kitchen, balancing a tray with two steaming cups of tea. Her smile was warm, but her eyes… I could see the worry there, tucked behind forced cheerfulness.

“You’ve barely touched your snack, iha,” she said gently, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “You need to eat. It’s a big day.”

I managed a small smile and shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You should be.” She sat beside me, the sofa dipping under her weight. “First impressions matter, you know. You can’t meet your future in-laws looking pale and faint.”

Future in-laws. The words slid into my chest like ice.

“I’ll be fine,” I murmured, wrapping my fingers around the warm ceramic cup, more for comfort than thirst.

For a moment, silence stretched between us. The clock ticked on, relentless. Finally, Aunt Marge reached for my hand, her voice softening.

“You’re sure about this, Lissa?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. Because in that instant, I wasn’t sure. Not really. My heart screamed no. My mind whispered maybe. And somewhere deep inside, the little girl who once dreamed of love, of freedom, of choosing her own destiny—she cried.

But I couldn’t let that voice win. Not when so much was at stake.

“Yes,” I said firmly, forcing strength into my tone. “It’s the only way.”

Aunt Marge’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, a tender gesture that almost undid me. “Your uncle and I… we hate this as much as you do. If there were another way…”

“I know.” I squeezed her hand, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “But there isn’t. You heard what Tito said. The company—Papa’s company—is falling apart. If I can save it, then…”

“Your father would never want this for you,” she whispered.

The words carved a fresh wound in me. I thought of Papa—his booming laugh, his tired but kind eyes, the way he used to call me his little warrior. Would he be proud of me now… or heartbroken?

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Maybe not. But he worked his whole life for that company. I can’t let it die, Auntie. Not when I can do something about it.”

She pulled me into her arms, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of her embrace. Her warmth, her familiar scent—lavender and home—made me wish I could freeze time and stay right here, safe and unbroken.

But time doesn’t freeze. It ticks. Always forward.

When she pulled back, her eyes glistened. “Then promise me one thing, anak.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t lose yourself.” Her voice cracked. “No matter what happens in that house, no matter what they ask of you… don’t forget who you are.”

I nodded, but inside, fear curled tight in my chest. Because what if who I am isn’t strong enough for this?

The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, cutting through the air like a blade.

My heart stuttered. It was time.

Aunt Marge rose and walked to the door while I stayed frozen on the sofa, my hands gripping the hem of my dress. The sound of hinges creaking open, voices murmuring politely—it all felt distant, like I was underwater.

Then Aunt Marge turned back to me, her face pale but composed. “They’re here.”

I stood on trembling legs. The pale blue dress she’d chosen for me rustled softly as I smoothed it down, trying to steady the shaking in my fingers. The fabric was soft, elegant—too elegant for someone like me.

I grabbed my small purse and walked toward the door, every step echoing like a drumbeat in my ears.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the curb, its glossy surface catching the last streaks of sunset. A man in a suit stood by the rear door, holding it open.

My chest tightened. This was it. No turning back.

I turned to Aunt Marge one last time. She gave me a trembling smile, her eyes saying all the things her lips couldn’t. Be brave. Come back to me whole.

I forced a smile in return, though it felt like glass splintering inside me.

As I slid into the car, the scent of leather and expensive cologne enveloped me. The door closed with a soft thud, sealing me inside a world that wasn’t mine.

The engine purred to life. The car pulled away from the curb. And just like that, the streets I’d known all my life began to blur into shadows behind me.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching my old life fade into the distance.

Goodbye, freedom. Goodbye, dreams.

Hello… whatever this is.