Chapter3
1067 Words
Rachel’s pov
“I need to think about it.”
I was internally punching myself as I tried to hail down a cab.
Think about it.
A man that most women could exchange their left kidney to spend a single night with had asked me to be his girlfriend, and I told him I would think about it?!
After a while a cab parked in front of me, and I slipped into my thoughts, still rambling.
He had been a gentleman about it; we exchanged numbers, and he said he'd been waiting for my answer.
The blue dress I was wearing now was something he had bought for me while I was asleep; it turns out I had puked on the dress I was wearing last night and ripped it with all the unwarranted gymnastics I put my body through.
The buildings blurred past the windscreen, and my thoughts kept going back to him.
I felt stupid.
What if he changed his mind when I contacted him?
I'm sure he's never been pinned up like an option by any woman.
A man like him really had experiences like that.
He was, in a very strict sense of the word, perfect.
And that was exactly what troubled me about him.
He could have any woman he wanted just by showing them a flicker of interest.
But he picked me.
Why?
My parents' company was standing on its last legs, and while I was okay to look at, I wasn't getting scouted by a modeling agency anytime soon.
We had clicked last night, but what could have been so amazing about me and a simple conversation that didn't last more than 30 minutes and ended with me humiliating myself and puking on my own clothes that made the guy look at me and say I was girlfriend material?
I run the pad of my fingers over the seat belt. As much as I wanted to believe that it was a love-at-first-sight kind of situation, I knew I lived in the real world. I'm not some sort of cheesy romance movie where flawless men fall for women because they are ‘different.’
I arrived home already mentally fortified and prepared for my parents' barrage of insults, but instead of that, my mother embraced me for the first time in years, weeping like I just came back home from war.
“Mom?” I was startled by this deviation from character.
She's slowly pulled away, wiping off the tears from the corner of her eye.
“I knew you would be worth something someday; finally you've managed to make one smart decision.”
My lips stretched into a weary smile; even while complimenting me, she still had to put me down somehow.
Father was behind her nodding.
“Indeed, we heard about what happened last night. We sense you fishing for prawns, but you came back with a whale instead.”
My smile fell completely.
Was I even a person to them?
Neither of them cared to know if I liked him or what kind of person he was.
Why would they? They were too busy drooling at the thoughts of having a son-in-law worth billions.
“So when is the wedding?” Father asked with a greedy grin plastered over his face.
“He asked me to be his girlfriend,” I began, “... But I told him that I needed time to think about it and—”
I was not halfway finished with what I wanted to say before my mother's slap hit me right across the face so hard that I staggered backwards and nearly fell.
The taste of blood, metallic and lukewarm, came from the side of my mouth as I subconsciously flicked my tongue over it.
Now that's more like my mother.
“Can't you do anything right?” She snarled at me, “What do you mean you're thinking about it? You're lucky that a man like him even glanced at someone like you. I mean, when was the last time you looked in a mirror? You dress like a widow in mourning, and most times you're not even bothered to swipe lipstick on yourself! Sometimes I wonder if you are even my daughter or if they switched you at birth!”
I brushed my palm over my bruised cheek.
She conveniently left out the part where I was cutting off my own expenses and living on the bare minimum because of their son, Blake, who was a hopeless spendthrift.
“Mom, did Blake just get a new car?”
She had rolled her eyes at me as I pointed out one of Blake's many pointless expenditures in the past.
“Maybe if you stopped being jealous of your younger brother and tried being pleasant, someone would be able to put up with you long enough to marry you.”
I clenched my jaw.
“I wished I had been switched at birth; anything would have been better than this.”
My mother's face went flaming red like a volcano ready to erupt.
“How dare you! You're the very reason why our family is struggling so much and—”
“I think your memories are beginning to slip, Mom,” I came at her sarcastically, tired of being treated like dirt, “but last time I checked it was your precious son who is the reason we're more than $50 million dollars in debt.”
For a while my mother looked like the wind had been knocked out of her. I don't know what pushed me to finally speak up to her after all the years of a***e.
But now that I had voiced some of my grievances, the weight on my chest felt lighter.
She looked like she was revving yet again to berate me when my father came from behind, holding her back.
“There's no need for you to exhaust yourself anymore; her opinion doesn't matter. Let's start making preparations for the wedding.”
Father ignored me completely, as if my defiance was nothing more than the whimpering of a helpless puppy that just needed its leash to be pulled.
Just as I was about to sink into my despair again, one of the maids came rushing from upstairs,
breathing heavily before announcing.
“Young master Blake, I can't find him anywhere; I think he is gone!”
- Writer
