Echo

Chapter seven; Engagement

Engagement.

In the context of marriage, engagement represents a formal and deliberate commitment between two individuals to embark on a lifelong partnership, characterized by shared goals, values, and a mutual dedication to building a fulfilling and enduring relationship.

I was going to be engaged in like a few days, months or years, it depends on how the contract is drafted, I guess or how desperate my father was, tomato-tomahto.

The other unfortunate person in this arrangement was to be here today, along with Andrew's.

This past week since I've been notified that I was going to be betrothed , I've been thinking how it will change everything.

If all goes well, we'll announce our engagement and alliances, appear to a lot of events together so we'll be seeing each other a lot, need to do a lot of things like get romantically involved for public relations then get married in the next couple of years and I'll be required to produce children.

I know how I feel about all this but I won't be cringe about it because it's unavoidable, after all my very own parents were betrothed too, just that theirs wasn't one for alliances.

Their parents were acquainted childhood best friends so I'd say it was one out of love to some extent.

My mother from my knowledge was ready to make everything work and apparently fell in love but my father was a troubled child, he hated when things does not go as he planned and leaving his playboy ways at a young age was not necessary his plan, he was very irresponsible and selfish unless it came to his business, that's the only thing he loves more than himself.

Zane Anderson, that was the name of my betrothed, the 18 year old only son of the Anderson family, a third generation family whereby his father inherited the family business and grew it into a multi billion company.

They produce clothing, signed artists of different talents, his father owned a major football franchise in Tampa I heard. His mother, Tessa Anderson a retired violinist and a very popular one at that.

They apparently did their best in raising a responsible young man. He might be the same age as my brother but has so many more achievements that he could father Andrew.

He has multiple scholarships from schools like UCLA, LSU, our very own university of Miami and many more , he launched a successful startup, bringing up ideas on how to use tech to expand their clothing line, he won a business plan competition and he secured significant funding for their ventures , organized a youth led charity.

What I wasn't able to learn was his manners and knowledge about his s****l nature. The internet portrayed him to be the best fiancée anyone could ever ask for but over the past years, I've learnt the internet can bend any truth.

As I stood in front of the mirror, the morning light barely registered in my mind. Dressed in a simple gown that felt more like an obligation than a choice, I examined my reflection with a sense of indifference. Meeting my betrothed was just another task on my list, one that didn't stir any excitement or dread within me. I adjusted my hair absentmindedly, feeling the weight of expectations settle on my shoulders, but I shrugged it off, reminding myself that this was merely a formality. With a sigh, I turned away from the mirror, glancing at the door, ready to face the meeting with a calm detachment, as if it were just another day in my life.

The air hung heavy with the scent of jasmine as I walked through the courtyard, each step echoing the quiet rhythm of my thoughts. The sun, a pale disc behind a veil of clouds, cast long shadows that stretched across the cobblestones, mimicking the elongated feeling of time in my own heart. My betrothed awaited, a figure I knew only through whispers and portraits, a stranger whose presence felt as distant as the distant hum of the city beyond the garden walls. With each step, the weight of tradition settled on my shoulders, a reminder of the life that was expected, a life I had accepted without passion, without resistance.

As I reached the ornate doors of the grand hall, a wave of anticipation washed over me. Not excitement, no, not that. It was a strange blend of apprehension and resignation, a feeling that mirrored the tapestry of my life woven by the hands of others. The sound of my own footsteps, amplified by the echoing silence of the hall, felt like a drumbeat, a countdown to a moment I couldn't escape. I took a deep breath, straightening my shoulders, and pushed open the doors, stepping into a world of gilded cages and unspoken expectations.

The hall was a symphony of light and shadow, the sunbeams filtering through stained glass windows painting the polished marble floor with a mosaic of colors. A hush fell over the room as I entered, all eyes turning to me like a chorus of silent judgment. At the far end of the hall, beneath a canopy of velvet, sat my betrothed, a figure shrouded in the mystery of the unknown. His gaze met mine, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but beneath it, I saw a reflection of my own unease. A wave of nausea rose in my throat, a sudden and unexpected rebellion against the carefully constructed façade of my life. In that moment, as I stood before him, the man who held the key to my future, I realized that this was not the beginning of a new chapter, but the end of one I never chose to write.......