TRAPPED IN VOWS

Chapter Two

Lillian sat on the edge of her bed. The memories of last night’s disaster are still running through her mind. Her uncle’s announcement, George’s silent departure; everything seemed to be happening to her at a very fast pace.

I should have run after him. The notion kept coming to Lillian: "I should have fought harder; I should have grabbed his hand," she told herself.

With a trembling gasp, she put her hands to her face. She was deep in thought when her uncle yanked open the door to her room.

Lillian's eyes were red with tears when she got out of bed to see her uncle. This cannot be done to me! Lillian exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks.

You can’t just decide my future like this. I’m not some sort of object you can just hand off to whoever benefits you the most.

Stop crying, Lillian. This is what is best for you. Best for all of us, Mr. Roger Smith said calmly with his tone, firm and indifferent demeanor.

Best for who? Best for me? Lillian asked rhetorically, her voice cracking. You’re doing this for yourself! I know it! You don’t care about me. You never have.

Mr. Rogers Smith sighs, shaking his head. You’re being overly dramatic and selfish, Lillian. I made sacrifices for you and cared for you. Why won't you listen to me on this matter? He asked.

Lillian kept sobbing and did not utter a word. You’ll understand one day. Clement is a good man. He has the means to take care of you. Mr. Rogers Smith added.

Lillian shaking her head furiously, I don’t care! I don’t love him! I already love someone else.

That boy? George? Mr. Rogers Smith asked rhetorically, laughing coldly.

Do you think love brings increase and expansion to businesses? Do you think love gives fame, wealth, or power? You are such a fool, Lillian.

So this is all about business, fame, wealth, and power to you. I would rather be a fool than a prisoner! Lillian replied with a sharp voice.

She had endured her uncle's ruthless, cunning and domineering behavior since her teenage years, but now she's not ready to allow her uncle to marry her off for his selfish interest just like that.

Enough! Mr. Rogers Smith replied, his voice turning cold. You will marry Clement, that’s not a request; it’s a fact. So, wipe your tears, Lillian; they won’t change a thing.

Please, I beg you, don’t do this. Lillian pleaded.

You will thank me one day. Mr. Rogers Smith said, turning away, his tone dismissive.

Lillian’s sobs fill the silence he leaves behind, her chest heaving with the weight of a future she never chose.

She could not just sit here and accept this. Her whole life, she had been told what to do, where to go, and who to be. She had gone along with it, obedient and well-behaved—until George.

He had been the one thing she had chosen for herself. And now he was gone. But not forever. She refused to let that be true.

Ignoring the soft murmurs of the housekeepers, Lillian strode downstairs and out of her room.

Mr. Rogers Smith was in his study, reading over some documents as if nothing had transpired, as if he had not just pulled her world apart.

She didn’t bother knocking. I need to know where George is, Lillian declared.

Her uncle is barely looking up, Lillian? He called out.

Sure, I must know. She raised her chin and refused to back down, even as her voice cracked.

With a groan, he put his papers down. Your lover is a coward who runs away from problems; is that the kind of person you want to marry? He's probably gone! Mr. Rogers, Smith replied.

Gone? To where? Lillian asked almost immediately.

I don't have an answer to that. He probably saw the obvious and decided to move on and you need to move on as well.

Her fingers curled into fists. You don’t get to decide that for me.

Mr. Rogers Smith stood up from his chair and moved a little closer to Lillian, his hands resting on her left shoulder as if to speak soothing words to her.

This is not just all about you, Lillian; think about the long-term benefits of this marriage on both families, especially on the businesses I and my friend Alex run together. Can't you see?

The businesses will have a good succession when you and Clement eventually get married.

Lillian turned and walked out without uttering a word. She is determined to find George, even if George will back out, at least not without parting words, she said to herself.

Lillian walked out of the house; her mind was made up; she was ready to look for George in places they had been together.

The streets felt different without George beside her. She found herself walking aimlessly, letting her instincts take control.

Every step led her somewhere familiar; places they had been together, places that felt like theirs.

The small café where he used to tease her about always ordering the same thing. The bookstore where he once bought her a poetry collection just because she had stared at it for too long. The quiet park where they had stolen moments of peace.

Now, she stood with her arms encircling her body, gazing at the vacant seat where they had spent numerous afternoons. Had he come here before he left? Had he sat in this very spot, thinking of her, wanting to stay?

She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his absence press into her bones.

Then, she felt a shift inside her. If I were him, where would I go? She didn’t need a note. She didn’t need anyone to tell her. She just knew.

It was already evening by the time she reached her destination. They had passed the little, hidden motel a hundred times before, making jokes about how it appeared to be taken directly from a crime fiction.

She was certain, but she didn't know why. As she entered, her breath was shallow and her heart was racing. She walked by the man at the front desk, who hardly gave her a look.

Then, before she saw him, she felt him.

A door at the far end of the dark hallway was partly open.

In her ears, her pulse roared. One trembling breath at a time, she moved forward until she was standing outside the door.

She would be able to see him again with just one push.

Would he be relieved? Angry? Would he tell her to leave? She didn’t care.

Lillian stood outside the door, slightly open, her heart pounded in her ears.

From within, she could hear a chair scraping the floor and heavy footsteps pacing. Then there was a sharp, irritated breath, followed by the sound of something cracking.

A glass? A bottle? A series of thoughts was racing in her mind, her fingers trembling as she reached for the door.

What was he doing in there? Was he drinking? Breaking things? Falling apart?

Then she heard his voice, very low but distinct. Why does she still haunt me? He sighed heavily.

He took his duffel bag and flung it across his shoulder. Then he reached forward to the door, about to take his leave.

As he stood at the door ruminating over the event at Lillian's party, just then Lillian pushed the door open.