“My father calls these parties frivolous. No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. Before college, I considered studying medicine, but I deemed it rather pointless since he wouldn’t entertain a daughter not marrying and settling into his chosen life for us.”
I felt myself flinch. The mention of her controlling father still strikes a chord. I love Pa, but if he’d have ever told me not to play soccer, I would never have listened. But that’s the difference between Pa and her father, Pa would never have asked me to do something I didn’t want to do.
“Oliver?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I know,” I tell her, though part of me knows she isn’t strong enough yet. It will take some miracle for her to grow a backbone, and time is quickly running out.
I sensed her need to be alone, to figure herself out through this mess she calls her life. It’s what I need to do when I am confused. Solitude for clarity always helps me gain perspective.
“I need to do this.”
“You do, but you know that.”
She takes a deep breath, smiling as she strokes the plaque. “Oliver?”
“Hmmm…”
“I want to be there with you tomorrow if you’ll let me.”
A part of me begins to shut down, the raw emotion of tomorrow’s reality crashing into me hard and fast. I can’t talk about it or let my thoughts fester in front of her.
“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy.”
“Oh... okay.”
“Listen, we should go. I’ll call you when I’m done tomorrow, anyway.”
She nods, turning away from me.
Damn! I’ve hurt her. She wants to be there with me. Yet, I’m not ready. Tomorrow is make or break, and if it turns out to be break, I won’t be ready for her to see me crumble into nothing.
We walk back toward the Jeep, and without a word, she grabs her bag and tells me she’ll catch a taxi.
I don’t stop her nor say goodbye.
I am sitting in some bar not far from the hotel, drowning my sorrows with bourbon and Coke. It’s the closest one—the proximity within short walking distance. It’s not anything fun, a bit classy, but still served the goods I need to ease the nervous tension building inside of me.
The girl at the bar, blonde with the longest legs I’ve seen in a while, begins to chat me up. She leans in close, plays with her hair, and runs her finger along her lips way too many times. She’s keen. I could have her, which I contemplate but shut it down.
Gabriella has spoiled me for anyone else.
And I loathed her for that.
A rowdy bunch of men steps in, demanding the waitress to serve them. They’re dressed in designer suits—arrogant looking fuckers. The kind who belong on Wall Street snorting crack off hookers’ arseholes.
“C’mon, Gemma, serve us a round, and maybe I’ll give you some like last week.”
The dude bumps into me, not apologizing. Fucking bastard. He’s an inch or so shorter than me. Dark hair slicked to the side like a fucking pussy.
“You might want to watch where you’re going, mate.”
He’s taken aback, cocks his head with widened eyes.
His friends—the bunch of dickheads—snicker behind him.
“You’re not from around here,” he notes with dark amusement. “Lost, are we? Missing your kangaroo?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“C’mon, Sebastian, leave the guy alone.”
The name struck a chord. Prince Charming. Anger boils deep in my system as hot as lava. It churns within, hungry for destruction, and I know it’s too much for me to handle. The pressure of this raging sea of anger will force me to say things I do not mean or to express thoughts I’ve suppressed for weeks.
Is this him?
The guy Gabriella is forced to marry.
The guy she will spend the rest of her life with if her father has his way. The man who will implant his seed and give her a family for all the wrong reasons.
“Sebastian… I’ve heard that name before.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, a friend of mine. Good friend. Actually, mentioned it as the guy she won’t commit to.”
I watch as the whites in his eyes turned a pure black as his iris glower teal. His lethal stare warns me to stay on guard, his clock is ticking, and my time may run out.
The guys behind me, they rile him up.
My eyes wander toward his fist, clenched tight, ready to unleash. In a darting moment, he throws a punch, but I knock him back, blocking him until all four of them try to jump me.
The short, stumpy one, gets me in the mouth. The taste of blood lingering as security guards step in, demanding I leave. This is their town, apparently, and I, as the unwelcome visitor, need to get out of here or pay the price of being locked up.
At the hotel, I almost punch the wall in frustration. That most certainly was the guy Gabriella’s thinking of marrying. The asshole trying to woo her with expensive gifts into a life she doesn’t want. How dumb must she be not to see what she’s getting into? A man should worship the fucking ground she walks on.
Then why don’t I?
There’s a bang on the door, and careful that it might be him, I open slowly. That’s when I see her wild eyes staring back at me until she pushes my chest.
“You asshole,” she screams. “What did you just do?”
“Me? I did nothing! Your fiancé was being a jerk, and I put him in his place.”
“Do you know how much you’ve messed it all up?” she cries, throwing her hands in the air like a crazed woman. “I was planning to… you know what, never mind?”
“Planning to do what?”
“Nothing. Nothing matters now.”
“Oh, that’s right… Miss Scaredy-cat is too frightened to stand up to her daddy and jerk of a fiancé. Go on then… run
