CHAPTER THREE
975 Words
For two days, I was locked up in a small storage room in a place I used to call home.
During those two days, Blake forgot I even existed. He brought food and water the night he locked me up, and that was the last time I saw him. That day was the last time I stepped outside.
He had promised to bring me food three times a day until the wedding.
I could add that to the endless list of empty promises I’ve gotten from Blake. He forgot he was holding me captive.
I tried everything in my power to break down the door. All I managed to do was wear out what little strength I had left.
Eventually, I collapsed, tired, dehydrated, and hungry. As I lay on the cold floor of the storage room, my mind wandered to a time when everything had been perfect.
I met Blake when I was sixteen years old. He was a scrawny high school scholarship student in a school filled with elite kids.
He got picked on constantly because of his family’s poverty. Everyone hated him. They never missed a chance to remind him that he was nothing more than a charity case leeching off rich kids.
We became friends after we were paired for a project. No one wanted him in their group. Out of pity, I left my friends and joined him.
That was the beginning of our love story, one that ended in heartbreak for me.
Back then, he would save his lunch money, starving for the rest of the day just to buy me a small gift. He knew he couldn’t compete with the other rich boys in my school, but he still gave it his all.
Even though he had little to nothing, he still somehow managed to get me whatever I wanted. When I realized what he was doing, I started asking for smaller things. Things within his budget.
I would scold him for sacrificing his meals for me.
“Stop being stupid, Blake. My father could get me a thousand of these without it even affecting his account. You didn’t have to get me this,” I’d say, blushing as I turned over the new book he had just bought me.
He knew I loved reading. Every month, Blake would get me a new book. He wasn’t a fan of fiction, but for my sake, he listened to me ramble about my favorite characters and even read the books himself to understand me better. After countless failed attempts to stop him from buying me books at the expense of his meals, I started buying lunch for both of us.
Two months after we became friends, he confessed his love for me. I was flattered. I felt the same way he did. But I held back because of my family.
I knew my father would never let me date a poor boy. To businessmen like him, dating and marriage were just business arrangements. He wanted me to marry the son of his wealthy friend to strengthen their business partnership.
Since I was little, I’d been told I was betrothed to that boy. My future was mapped out for me, and it didn’t include Blake.
So, I rejected him. I refused to be his girlfriend.
Blake was heartbroken, but he didn’t give up. Instead, he doubled his efforts. He started buying me flowers every week and new books every other day. He even got a job to keep up with the cost of pampering me.
His persistence melted my heart.
He asked me out again, and again I turned him down. This time, I told him about the arranged engagement. He said he understood...and I believed him. I thought he would step back and accept that I belonged to someone else.
But to my surprise, he didn’t.
Instead, he showed up at my house one evening when he knew I’d be at violin practice. He spoke to my father.
“I really love your daughter, Mr. Smith. I have good intentions. She’s the one I want to marry when I become man enough,” he said.
My father found it amusing. “You’re too young to know what you want, boy. Layla isn’t yours to have.”
But Blake stood firm. “I’m old enough to know what I want, sir. And I would bet my life that I love Layla. She told me you’ve already arranged her marriage. Is your business more important than your daughter’s happiness? Why force her into a marriage she doesn’t want when she could be happy with me?”
When I came home, my father told me everything. Then he asked me one question:
“Do you love that young man?”
Without hesitation, I said, “Yes, I do.”
That was all the conviction my father needed to give us his blessing.
Blake and I started dating. I loved him, and he loved me.
Everything was perfect. Until my nineteenth birthday, when my parents died in an accident. I was a freshman in college, and Blake was working to save up for school.
That’s when everything fell apart.
My father had left a few million dollars for me in his will, just enough to get me through college and help me get started in life.
All his properties were left to my half-brother, who was tasked with taking care of me for the rest of my life.
But my brother had other plans. He agreed to support me only if I married the man I was originally betrothed to.
I refused. And when he tried to force me, I knew I couldn’t stay there any longer.
I dropped out of college and eloped with the man I loved—Blake Anderson.
Using the money my father left me, we fled to another country.
- Writer
