Lyra stood her ground, her voice unwavering as she declared, "I don't feel inclined to marry again, Mother." She was visibly taken aback by her mother's assumption that completing her master's degree and securing a job meant she was ready for marriage.
On the other end of the line, her mother let out a weary sigh, clearly vexed by Lyra's response. "You're not getting any younger, Rara. You need to settle down sooner rather than later, or you may find it difficult to find a partner. I'll be arranging some dates for you. No excuses. Come home for New Year. I'll be waiting," her mother stated firmly before ending the call.
Lyra's disbelief at her mother's words resonated as she stared at her cell phone before launching it across the room in a surge of frustration. Sinking onto the couch, she ruffles her hair, pondering aloud, "Why is she so fixated on my marriage when she has her other two children to consider?"
Reflecting on her upbringing, memories of her biological mother, Florence, surfaced. She hadn't received much attention from her, and although it didn't bother her, she often pondered why she lived with her uncle rather than her mother. As she matured, however, she grew appreciative of not being under Florence's care.
The sudden conversation about marriage caught her off guard, although deep down, she might have anticipated it. Having worked as an offshore engineer for an oil and gas company for the past three months and only returning to Germany recently, she found herself deep in thought, gazing at the ceiling. While she wasn't opposed to marriage, her experience had left her with a bleak outlook on love. Furthermore, at 25, she was not as old as her mother seemed to believe, as her mother tended to exaggerate.
As she sat there, the memories of her past marriage to Zayn resurfaced. Married at 21 and divorced by 23. The marriage had been more of a family arrangement but the betrayal had been painful, but it had also taught her valuable lessons about trust and love.
Lyra sighed, standing up and walking towards the window. The view of the bustling city below seemed to mirror her chaotic thoughts.
"I wish she could understand," Lyra whispered to herself, "that my life isn't incomplete without a husband. I've built a career, I've made a life for myself." She knew her mother meant well, but the relentless push for marriage felt suffocating.
-- -- --
"Do you think you can attend the charity gala?" Maria, her colleague, suddenly asks. Lyra looks at her, feeling puzzled. "I mean, yes, sure I can. But why are you asking? Didn't you all already decide who's going and who's not?" Lyra raises her eyebrows, patiently waiting for Maria to answer.
The older woman nods, her expression showing a hint of concern. "Indeed, but Alejandro just emailed me saying that he might be unavailable on that day, and we're short one person. You're the only other person who has the kind of experience he has," she explains, hoping that Lyra would understand the urgency of the situation.
Lyra paused for a moment, her brows furrowing as she weighed her options. "I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?" she mused aloud. Maria shook her head empathetically, indicating that the situation indeed left Lyra with little room to refuse. After a moment of contemplation, Lyra released a resigned sigh before conceding, "I'll do it for the sake of our company. By the way, did Alejandro provide any explanation for why he's suddenly unavailable for that particular date?"
Maria once again shook her head, her expression reflecting concern. "He decided to take a sudden three-day leave, starting today. I have no idea what happened, but I'm sure he'll be back in top shape by next week. Thank you for being willing to represent him and the company at the gala."
Lyra, with a faint hum still lingering in the air, slowly made her way back to her office. As she walked, a sense of frustration weighed on her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder why everything seemed to be constantly going in the wrong direction for her lately.
-- -- --
As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, Lyra felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She carefully reached for her elegant purse and gracefully made her way out of her house, the soft click of her heels echoing in the hallway. Stepping into the lift of her apartment building, she smoothed down her dress before gliding across the parking lot, the evening air carrying a gentle whisper of anticipation.
As Lyra calmly settled into the driver's seat of her car, she reached for the ignition and brought the engine to life. With a casual toss, she placed her purse on the empty passenger seat and smoothly manoeuvred her vehicle out of the parking lot, heading towards the grand venue of the charity gala.
After a leisurely 30-minute drive through the bustling city night, filled with the soothing hum of distant traffic and the soft glow of streetlights illuminating the winding streets, she finally arrived at the grandiose venue. As she pulled up to the entrance, the elegant facade of the building loomed overhead, and she could see the valet standing by. She gracefully flagged down the valet and handed over her keys, asking him to park her car. With a sense of anticipation, her heart was thumping against her chest as she reached into her purse to retrieve her phone and call Maria.
As Maria picked up the phone on the first ring, she instructed Lyra to enter through the main entrance, assuring her that all of their colleagues would be waiting near the door. Lyra took a moment to smooth out her dress and adjust her hair before making her way down the luxurious red carpet toward the entrance.
As she entered the hall, she was immediately taken aback by the stunning decor that surrounded her. The intricate details of the hall's design left her completely in awe. Her eyes were drawn to the magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and she couldn't help but gaze up at it with a sense of mesmerization. At that moment, she was captivated by the beauty of her surroundings. It was then that she heard Maria's voice calling after her, bringing her back to the present moment.
Lyra smiled brightly at the older woman as she confidently walked over to her colleagues. "I apologize for arriving late. I was struggling to decide how to style my hair. I wanted to project a professional image while still appearing approachable," she explained, her expression slightly apologetic.
Maria waved off the apology with a warm smile. "Oh, darling, it's a small matter. Now, come on, let's head up front and meet some investors, shall we?" Lyra enthusiastically nodded in agreement before confidently striding up front with her two trusted colleagues, a sense of anticipation building as they approached the group of potential investors. As the conversation flowed smoothly between them and the investors, Lyra could feel the excitement and the potential for a successful outcome for their company. She was filled with gratitude for the opportunity to play a key role in making it all happen alongside her dedicated coworkers.
As time wore on, Lyra felt her concentration waning and her feet beginning to ache from the towering high heels she had chosen for the gala. To find relief, she excused herself from the conversation and navigated her way carefully to an empty hallway adjacent to the ladies' room. Leaning against the cool wall, she gingerly slipped off her shoes, wincing as the pain flared with each careful movement
As her weary feet made contact with the soft, carpeted floor, she let out a long exhale of relief. She gingerly reached into her purse, hoping to find some much-needed bandages for her aching blisters. To her dismay, all she found was an empty pack of plasters. Frustrated and defeated, she cursed herself silently, knowing that she would have to endure the discomfort of spending the night with her ankle bleeding.
As she reached for her heels, the echoing click of footsteps caught her attention. Her gaze turned towards the approaching figure, revealing a tall and strikingly handsome man. He exuded confidence, adorned in a tailored emerald suit that accentuated his stature. With purposeful strides, he moved down the hallway, his focus intermittently shifting between his phone and the path ahead.
She cleared her throat, feeling a nervous knot in her stomach as she debated whether or not to ask the man if he possibly had some plasters on hand. Biting her lower lip, she glanced at the man, hoping to catch his attention.
"Sir..?"
-- -- --
YOU ARE READING
violet .
Romancefalling for him wasn't falling at all . it was walking into a house and suddenly knowing you're home .
