The weeks leading up to mine and Katherine's wedding should have been filled with memories I could carry with me for a lifetime. Filled with tuxedo shopping with my closest friends and father, a bachelor party fit with endless drinking and regrets in the morning. I had all of this, every last bit of it, I just couldn't enjoy it on behalf of my father. I had spent months planning out my proposal to Katherine. She was the one for me, I made that relatively clear. I dropped a couple grand on a ring from Tiffany's, planned a romantic weekend away for the two of us in a cabin tucked away deep in the mountains. Before doing all of this I found myself in my father's office, the place I would call his profound home.
He was seated at his desk in his ridiculously oversized office chair scowling at a plethora of files. By the look on his face, one of pure frustration, it brought back the ideas of him retiring. I let out a soft grunt as means of gathering his attention towards me before seating myself in one of the chairs he had rested in front of his desk, "Father, there're something I wanted to discuss with you. Katherine and I have been together for awhile now, coming up on two years as a matter of fact, and I've planned a special trip for the two of us on the weekend of our anniversary."
His attention didn't leave the files but he still managed to let out small mumbles, "Yes, of course. You need the weekend off, that's certainly doable. Just let Chad know the dates, he can fill in for you."
I shook my head in refusal, "While I would need the time off, that's not the reason I needed to speak with you. Sir, I'm asking Katherine for her hand in marriage. I've already talked it over with her father, he seems quite pleased with the idea. He's even offered to pay for the entire wedding." I said the last remark as means of sugar coating the news to my father, whom dreaded the day I actually decided to get married.
He slapped the papers down, his eyes now filled with anger, "That just won't do! I won't tolerate it. You are not to marry that common girl until she has agreed to take on a prenuptial agreement. I will not have women swarm the way in and out of your lives looking for a handout, a free pass. I did the same thing to your mother when it became time for me to propose to her. I had it laid right out on the table. You marry for love, Stefan, you don't settle for the first girl to shake their bottoms at you!"
"Father," I began, "I beg your pardon, that is the love of my life you're talking about. Katherine has never asked our family for a single penny, she's always paid her way. She has her own business, she's a very smart and independent woman. You're making it out like she's some dog thinking I'm a cash cow, and it's absolutely absurd."
"No contract, no wedding. That's the end of the discussion," he returned to his paperwork, "See yourself out son, I'll see you at home. I don't want to hear anything else about this wedding nonsense coming from the likes of you."
Despite his disapproval, I made my way to Katherine's work that day eager to share with her the news of our getaway. As normal she was behind the front counter of the establishment, dressed from top to bottom in her absolute best. She wore a very neutral colored beige dress that complimented her figure and her dark brown, almost auburn, hair. Her eyes lit up when she saw me make my way through the revolving front door, "My dear Stefan, what brings you here?"
"What are your plans for this weekend? Whatever they may be, cancel them. We're going on a trip," I exclaimed and watched as her eyes filled with amazement and joy. "I know it's short notice, we both have been working hard lately, I figured we both needed a small getaway. Get out of town, and forget about the rest of the world for a little while," I took her hands into mine, the amazement in her eyes never escaping for a split second.
She nodded her head in agreement, "Consider them cancelled, of course I'll go out of town with you. Where are we going? Beach getaway, spa retreat, ski resort?" The ideas kept rambling from her mouth, none of which were correct though I wouldn't have admitted to it even if she had managed to guess it.
YOU ARE READING
Forgive Me, Katherine
Romansa"... the water trickled it's way down my face, driplets splashing into the sink and washing away any hint of guilt and shame. I peered over my shoulder and noticed her laying there, her blonde hair sticking to her shoulders and her skin glistening f...