The Marriage Clause

〘⚪Chapter Two⚫〙

I woke up with a headache.

Not the kind that comes from being tired.

The kind that comes from thinking too much.

I stayed in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and pretending I didn't have anywhere to be.

Unfortunately, my phone disagreed.

It had been buzzing for the past five minutes.

I reached for it without opening my eyes.

Twenty-three notifications.

I opened one.

Then another.

Then I immediately regretted it.

The wedding.

Everyone was talking about the wedding.

Some entertainment page had posted another article about it, and somehow the comments had turned into a full discussion about what my wedding dress would look like.

I dropped my phone beside me.

People were planning my wedding more excitedly than I was.

That was almost funny.

Almost.

I finally got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.

By the time I came downstairs, my mother was already having breakfast.

She looked up when she saw me.

“You're late.”

I pulled out a chair.

“For what?”

“Breakfast.”

“I thought breakfast was whenever you ate it.”

She smiled.

“You always have an answer.”

“It's one of my best qualities.”

“Your father would disagree.”

I laughed quietly and sat beside her.

For a few minutes, it was just the two of us.

No wedding.

No company.

No arguments.

Just breakfast.

I actually enjoyed it.

Then my mother looked at me.

“You're happy?”

I stopped eating.

“About what?”

She gave me a look.

“You know.”

I pushed my food around with my fork.

“Mom…”

“You don't have to pretend with me.”

I looked at her.

She looked tired, but there was a softness in her eyes that made it difficult to lie.

“I'll be fine.”

“That isn't what I asked.”

I sighed.

“I don't want to marry him.”

Her smile faded.

“I know.”

I looked at her quickly.

“You know?”

“I'm your mother.”

That simple answer hurt more than I expected.

She reached across the table and held my hand.

“I know you don't like him anymore.”

I looked down at our hands.

“Then why are you letting Dad do this?”

She didn't answer immediately.

“Because I won't be here forever.”

My chest tightened.

“Don't say that.”

“It's true.”

“I don't want to hear it.”

“I know.”

She squeezed my hand.

“I just want to know you'll have someone.”

“I have people.”

“I mean someone who will stay.”

I didn't know what to say to that.

Because the person she wanted me to marry was the exact person I wanted as far away from me as possible.

My phone rang.

I looked at the screen.

My assistant.

I answered.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Then why are you calling this early?”

“Because you have a meeting in forty minutes.”

I looked at the clock.

I almost choked.

“Forty?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you call earlier?”

“I did.”

I checked my phone.

Twenty-three notifications.

Right.

“I hate mornings.”

“You hate mornings, meetings and weddings.”

“I don't hate meetings.”

“You complained about yesterday's meeting for two hours.”

“That's different.”

“How?”

“I was right.”

She laughed.

My mother smiled at me.

For a second, everything felt normal again.

Then my assistant said, “Also, your father moved the engagement dinner to seven.”

I frowned.

“He didn't tell me.”

“He told me.”

“Of course he did.”

“And there will be press.”

I groaned.

“Perfect.”

“Try not to kill anyone.”

“No promises.”

She laughed again.

I ended the call.

My mother was still smiling.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're laughing more lately.”

“That's because my assistant is funny.”

“Or because you're avoiding thinking about the wedding.”

I stared at her.

She raised both hands.

“Okay. I'll stop.”

“Thank you.”

I finished breakfast and went upstairs to get ready.

↭↭↭↭↭↭↭↭

The day went by faster than I wanted.

Meetings.

Calls.

More meetings.

By noon, I'd almost forgotten about the wedding.

Almost.

Then I walked into my office and saw the huge bouquet sitting on my desk.

I stopped.

There was a card.

I didn't need to open it.

I already knew who it was from.

I picked it up anyway.

For my future wife.

I stared at the words.

Then I put the card back.

“Take this away.”

My assistant looked at the flowers.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Can I keep them?”

I looked at her.

She shrugged.

“They're nice.”

“Fine.”

She grabbed the bouquet immediately.

I watched her walk away with it.

“You're ridiculous.”

“Thank you.”

I smiled despite myself.

Then my phone rang.

My father.

I answered.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“At work.”

“You'll be home by six.”

“That wasn't a question.”

“No.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“Dad, I have things to do.”

“So do I.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Because tonight matters.”

I knew where this was going.

“I'll be there.”

“Good.”

He paused.

“And try to be pleasant.”

I frowned.

“I'm always pleasant.”

There was silence.

Then he laughed.

“Don't make me laugh.”

“I was serious.”

“You're coming home at six.”

The call ended.

I stared at the phone.

I hated when he did that.

I returned to work, but I couldn't concentrate anymore.

At around four, I gave up.

I closed my laptop.

My assistant looked at me.

“Leaving?”

“Yes.”

“It's four.”

“I know.”

“Your meeting is at five.”

“Move it.”

“To when?”

“Tomorrow.”

She nodded.

Then she looked at me for a second.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You've said yeah a lot today.”

“Is that illegal?”

“No.”

She smiled.

“Just checking.”

I grabbed my bag.

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Try not to get married tonight.”

I stopped at the door.

“I'll try.”

She laughed.

I left before she could say anything else.

By six, the house was already crowded.

People were everywhere.

Staff.

Family friends.

My father's business partners.

I hadn't even reached the living room before someone complimented my dress.

“Beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Another person stopped me.

“You look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

Someone else told me the wedding would be beautiful.

I smiled.

“I'm sure.”

I was getting very good at pretending.

Then I saw him.

He was standing beside his parents, talking to my father.

The moment his eyes found me, he smiled.

I looked away.

My mother noticed.

She gently touched my arm.

“Please.”

I knew what she meant.

So I walked over.

He looked at me.

“You came.”

I gave him a small smile.

“I said I would.”

“I wasn't sure.”

“You shouldn't doubt me.”

He smiled.

“I don't.”

I didn't respond.

He reached for my hand.

I let him hold it for exactly two seconds before pulling away.

His expression changed.

“You're still doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like I'm a stranger.”

I looked at him.

“Maybe that's what I want.”

He stared at me.

Before he could say anything, my father called everyone to the table.

I sat beside my mother.

He sat across from me.

Dinner started.

For a while, everything was fine.

People talked.

People laughed.

Someone told a terrible joke about business partnerships.

Everyone laughed anyway.

I smiled because apparently that was expected of me.

Then his father raised his glass.

“To the future.”

Everyone lifted theirs.

I looked at my glass.

My fingers tightened around it.

The future.

Six weeks.

Six weeks until I was expected to marry a man I couldn't stand.

I looked around the table.

My father was smiling.

My mother looked happy.

His family looked satisfied.

And my fiancé looked at me like the decision had already been made.

Something inside me snapped.

Not loudly.

Just enough.

I put my glass down.

“I need some air.”

My mother looked at me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

I stood.

No one stopped me.

I walked outside and closed the door behind me.

The garden was quiet.

I took a deep breath.

Then another.

My phone buzzed.

A message from my fiancé.

'You can't keep running from this.'

I stared at it.

Then another message came.

'Eventually, you'll accept that we're getting married.'

I locked my phone.

I looked back at the house.

Then at the road beyond the gates.

For some reason, I suddenly wanted to leave.

Not tomorrow.

Not next week.

Tonight.

I walked back inside, grabbed my bag and quietly headed toward the front door.

My father noticed.

“Where are you going?”

I stopped.

“I need some air.”

“You were just outside.”

“I need more.”

He frowned.

“Don't be difficult.”

I looked at him.

“I've been sitting at that table pretending to be happy for two hours.”

His expression hardened.

“Watch your tone.”

I laughed softly.

“Of course.”

I opened the door.

“Where are you going?”

I looked back at him.

“I don't know.”

And for once, I wasn't lying.

"Daria!!"

I walked outside, ignoring him.

Got into my car.

And drove.

I didn't know where I was going.

I just knew I couldn't stay there.

Not tonight.

Maybe I needed a quiet place.

Maybe I needed to think.

Maybe I just needed to disappear for a few hours.

I knew for a fact that disappearing wouldn't be enough.

I was going to need an escape.