Prologue

1242 Words
Izaya's P.O.V ″So...?″ He asked in anticipation. ″So, What?″ I shot back, Cleary annoyed. ″Aren’t you gonna say something?″ He asked, shifting uncomfortably. ″What is there to say? You just told me, what my parents have been telling me to do for years. Which means that they are getting impatient and I need to find a mate with soon or they will be picking someone for me. I said calmly. 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ Honestly, Im tired of people telling me what I need or what I should do. Everyone always wants something from it’s always about them, But what about what I want? Serious relationships were never really my forte. I don’t believe in soulmates and so the very idea of tying myself to only one person for the rest of my life was repulsing. Nails on a chalk board or walking on hot coals sounded more appealing to me. And, besides that, it was boring. There was so much to see and do in life, why would you want to be tethered to one person for the extent of it? What if you get tired of each other? What if he had a Star Wars collection you didn’t know about until six months in? What if he turned out to be a serial killer? Or worse, a momma’s boy? Yeah, no thanks. At one point, I was like most other young girls, dreaming about the idea of forever and the big white wedding I would have someday. I practiced signing my name with my crush’s last name, day dreamed about the mansion we would live in and all the children we’d fill it with. I wasn’t always so cynical about the thought of forever, but I guess that’s what a string of good for nothing losers will do to a girl. Swallow her dreams and spit them back up until she can’t hardly even imagine wanting those things anymore. First there was Sam, my middle school boyfriend who was determined to make me into a proper church going girl to impress his preacher father. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to explain that wasn’t me, he still didn’t listen. In high school, there was Adam the foreign exchange student who pronounced my name in such a way I could envision wedding bells. I didn’t eat for a week when he had to return to England at the end of the summer promising to write me. Guess those letters got lost in the mail. There was even Liam, a pre law frat boy I met at uni. Turns out he wasn’t as sweet and gentlemanly as he let on. All of those relationships failed in comparison to Dale Mackey though. While I hadn’t exactly had a string of winners before him, it was my relationship with him, or at least the downfall of it, that made me swear off relationships for good. A year and a half in, I was thinking about our future and wondering when we would take the next step. Little did I know he had a “future” and “ the next step” planned with 2 other girls as well. If our break up hadn’t been excruciating enough, I would never be able to completely cut ties with the guy. He worked for my father and I would run into all the time at bar-b-ques, weddings, even Sunday dinner sometimes. No matter how hard I tried to get away from him, he was always around. In the end, I knew our breakup was for the best for a number of reasons, but it didn’t stop it from stinging. Every time we ran into each other, I would put on a brave face and try to act like I was happy to see him, but inside it was silently killing me, setting fire to every fairytale illusion I had. So it wasn’t like I had never given relationships a chance, it was just that I had experienced enough bad ones to be scarred beyond belief. I liked to keep things short. It was like my own way of protecting myself from ever letting anyone close enough to hurt me again. The way I looked at it, I was lucky I had figured it out so soon in life, I would save myself a lot of broken hearts this way. Relationships and the long term commitment just weren’t my cup of tea. The dating part, on the other hand, now that was something I was actually good at. I loved the freshness of dating, when you’re still trying to impress each other, when it’s all fun, no commitment or games. Anything past three, four dates tops, has me running for the hills. Men always started to lose their allure to me at this point, especially if they started throwing around terms like “Girlfriend” or “mate.” I certainly didn’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I had this dating business down to a science. I offered as little information about myself as I could, and tried not to remember any more personal details than absolutely necessary. It makes it harder to walk away from a guy when I know he saves kittens in his spare time, or that he spent his summers volunteering for Doctors Without borders. Details meant getting personal, and getting personal meant being vulnerable. As soon as I started to feel smothered or like they were getting to close, I turned on the charm and had them thinking that breaking it off was their idea. It hadn’t worked on everyone and I had ended up with a few clingers, but for the most part I was able to step away without any strings attached. What can I say, I guess we all have our talents. Tonight was date number one with Toni, Gamma from a neighbouring pack that my sister, Nadia, and her mate, Langdon, were trying to set me up with. This Toni didn’t exactly sound like my type, but I agreed to it on the premise that he was hot and that I was doing this as a favor for Nadia. Toni was Langdon’s good friend and I figured I could entertain just about anyone for one night. Despite my own qualms about relationships, everyone in my family was eager for me to settle down, especially my father. I think my wild ways had run their course with him and all he wanted was for me to find a nice guy and have a bunch of babies, because that’s just what women in my family were expected to do. I was pushing the clock in their eyes, even at 22. I gave myself one more look in the mirror and smoothed the wrinkles out of my navy blue dress. It was new, and I had been unsure about it at first, but seeing the way it popped against my tan skin and black hair, I knew it was perfect. Grabbing my purse, I headed out of my room and down the stairs.
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