Silent Strangers

FOURTEEN

Chapter FOURTEEN:
Grace

The day after my meeting with my boss, I returned home to find my mother sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea steaming in front of her. She looked up as I entered, her expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"Grace, I have something important to discuss," she began, her voice filled with a sense of urgency.

I sat down, my heart pounding. I knew something was up, and I wasn't sure if I was prepared for whatever she was about to say.

"There's been a proposal," she continued, her eyes fixed on me. 

"A marriage proposal."

My breath caught in my throat. A marriage proposal? I was completely caught off guard. I hadn't even considered the possibility.

"Who from?" I managed to ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"The son of a very powerful man in the city," my mother replied, her voice filled with a sense of pride. "His father is a respected figure in the Archer dynasty, a family with deep roots in the business world."

My eyes widened. 

The Archers were one of the most powerful families in the city, known for their wealth and influence. A marriage to one of their sons would be a significant boost to my social status and financial security.

"But I don't want to get married," I protested, my voice rising. "I'm not ready."

My mother's expression softened, but only slightly. "Grace, this is not about you wanting to get married. This is about securing your future. Your father was a respected businessman, and his legacy should be protected."

My heart ached. My mother was using Dad's memory to justify her own ambitions. It was a cold and calculating move, one that I found deeply disturbing.

"You can't force me to do this," I said, my voice trembling.

My mother's eyes narrowed. "Grace, I'm not forcing you.", she said forcibly.

"I'm simply presenting you with an opportunity."
"An opportunity that could save your career, and by extension, your inheritance."

The threat was clear. If I didn't agree to the marriage, I would lose everything. The weight of the world seemed to press down on me, crushing my spirit.

"When is it?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Seven months," my mother replied, her tone final. "We have time to prepare."

I nodded, feeling a sense of resignation. The decision had been made for me. I was going to get married, whether I wanted to or not.

The days that followed were a blur of meetings, appointments, and preparations. My mother was relentless, her determination unwavering. She had already begun planning the wedding, selecting the venue, the dress, the caterers. It was as if she were planning a corporate event, not a celebration of love.

I tried to resist, to assert my independence. But my mother was a force to be reckoned with. She knew how to manipulate, to control. She played on my fears, my insecurities, my sense of duty.

One day, as I was leaving my office after a particularly grueling meeting with Mr. Carter, my boss, I received a text from my mother. She had arranged a meeting with the Archer family the following week.

The meeting was a formality. The decision had already been made. I was to be married to the Archer's son, a young man I had never met. The details would be sorted out later.

As I sat in the back of the car, being driven home, I couldn't help but feel a sense of despair. My life was no longer my own.

It was a pawn in a game that I didn't understand, a game that I didn't want to play.