A FAMILY AFFAIR

AVARYL’S POV “Is that all I am to you?” “A business transaction?” I queried, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Did you ever love me?” I couldn't pick a time in my life. I was more hurt than I am now, not even in the event of my mother’s passing. “Ava, you have to be reasonable. This isn’t just about you, it’s about the family, the business, legacy,” my father said, not minding the tears that streamed down my cheeks. It was about everything else but me, yet, I was the one being married off to a stranger. I stared at my father, heartbroken and downtrodden. I had always believed in his love for me, but now I couldn't say that. “Alvin will be here tomorrow with his grandfather,” my father announced to me, “You get to see him before the wedding on Saturday,” he finished, and went straight to his room. ‘Saturday?’ I thought, realizing I was getting this announcement only four days before the wedding. I broke down and wept bitterly. “Quit it already,” Audrey said, “It’s just a wedding, not a death sentence.” “And if it is a death sentence, die for the family,” she barked at me. Audrey was my step-sister and had lived with us all her life. Her mother left my father years ago, but that did not stop my father for taking full responsibility for his child. Although Audrey and I were the only children of my father, we never seemed to get along. Audrey never liked me and while her mum lived with us, she made sure we lived worlds apart and Audrey continued the pattern, even after her mother left. I lifted my head and stared at Audrey, who picked up her tiny bag and walked away, slamming the door behind her. It all felt ethereal, or at least I hoped it was. ‘I slowly opened my eyes to the glittering rays of the sun,’ I would say that if only I did. “Get your ass out of bed and go see your groom!” Audrey yelled, splashing a cup of water on my face, startling me out of bed. I didn’t get a chance to express any displeasure, as Audrey turned right around and walked out of my room, with her signature- a door slam. I took a deep breath and got out of bed, rushed through a bath and hurried downstairs to meet the supposed groom. As I walked down the stairs, I was overwhelmed by anxiety and my heart raced at almost twice the normal speed. “Ah, there she is!” My father exclaimed as I got to the bottom of the stairs. My father was in the company of two men, one older and the other a lot younger. “Ava,” the older man called, stretching his hand towards me, “she looks better in person than she did in the pictures and videos,” the old man commented. I felt a little weird, hearing him say that, but even more, noticing the younger man rolling his eyes. Obviously, he didn’t share the same view. “Ava, this is Mr. Brown and his grandson, Alvin,” my father introduced. I greeted the guests and walked past them to take a seat beside my father. Alvin was 6’2” with black, jet hair and a pointed nose with popping brown eyes. He was light skinned and had red lips, wearing geeky glasses. At first glance, I did think he was cute. As I walked past him, he stretched his leg and placed it in my way, tripping me over. I tumbled and barely managed to support my weight with my hands, but unluckily for me, there were shards of glass on the spot and a few got sunk into my palms, and I was now bleeding, leaving blood stains on the floor. “Ava!” father yelled, hurrying towards me. “Alvin, help her,” his grandfather ordered. “Yes, grandpa,” Alvin responded so sweetly, after which he helped me to the guest bathroom at the far left of the living room. “If I were you, I would run far away before Saturday,” Alvin said, more in a threatening tone, as he calmly shut the bathroom door behind us. “Huh?’ I blurted, a little very confused. “Call off the wedding!” He said in a firm tone, but regulating it to a whisper, I couldn’t wrap my head around this. He also didn’t want to get married. “Why don’t you call it off?” I asked, Alvin’s authority slightly dimmed, and he took his gaze off me for a second. “You’re scared of your grandpa?’ I queried, decoding his mood and reaction. “No, I am not,” he responded very defensively, but his actions betrayed his words. “Is that why you decided to hurt me?’ I asked, looking at my bleeding hand. “It wasn’t my fault you landed on pieces of glass,” he replied, “Nor is it my fault that you are so clumsy, you couldn’t quietly take a seat.” I could see Alvin’s anger, but I hoped he saw that his anger was misdirected. I was as much a victim as he was in the whole of this. “Hurting me because you are hurt is wrong, Alvin,” I said, now in a calm tone, as I quite understood his pain. “Well, that’s only a tip of the iceberg compared to the torture that awaits you,” “So, you better flee while you still can,” he responded. Alvin reached for the door knob, “Aren’t you at least going to help me wash the blood?’ I asked, Alvin gave me a death stare for a few seconds and reached for the hose, directing it at my face and soaking my entire clothing. ‘This should not happen.’ Alvin and I walked into the mansion side by side with each other, with his grandfather watching us closely from behind, until the door was closed, and we were now out of sight. As the doors shut behind us, Alvin hissed and ran right up the spiral stairs. I took a deep breath and followed right behind him. I found him with a big bottle of alcohol. “Are you planning on getting yourself killed?” I queried from a place of concern, “What do you care?” Alvin responded, I didn’t get to process my next sentence when his phone came buzzing. Alvin got up and was heading out of the room, showing obvious discomfort to answering his phone in my presence. “I’ve never fancied men who are into alcohol,” I said, under my breath. “What are you going to do? Leave?” Alvin queried. I froze, realizing that he heard me, which was not the intent. For a few seconds, there existed an awkward silence between us. “I didn’t think so,” Alvin said, walking towards the door. “We’re married anyway,” he ended, slamming the door behind him.