il mio professore

Chapter 5 ~~✨

In the following weeks, I found myself preparing for the inevitable. I spent more time with my parents, trying to understand their perspective, even as I felt my own dreams slip further away. My sketches became less frequent, and my passion for art dulled as I focused on the reality of the marriage.

On the day my parents formally introduced me to Mr. Moreno, I put on a brave face, even though my heart was heavy. I could see it in their eyes-the pride, the relief that their plan was coming together. And as I sat across from him at the dinner table, I couldn't help but feel like I was losing a part of myself with every passing moment.

"Livia, I hope you're happy with this arrangement," my mother said, her gaze warm but expectant. "It's a wonderful opportunity."

"Yes, it is," I replied, forcing a smile as I glanced at Mr. Moreno, who wore a mask of polite acceptance. I could tell he was just as trapped in this arrangement as I was. I could see the flicker of conflict in his eyes, but he maintained a composed demeanor, likely out of respect for my parents and the situation we found ourselves in.

As the evening wore on, I felt increasingly suffocated by the expectations surrounding me. My parents exchanged glances of satisfaction, oblivious to the turmoil churning within me. I forced myself to engage in the conversation, nodding along as they discussed plans and future possibilities, but I felt like a ghost in my own life.

When the dinner finally concluded, and the guests departed, I retreated to my room, desperate for solitude. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The walls felt like they were closing in, and I sank onto my bed, burying my face in my hands.

How had it come to this? How had I gone from a passionate artist dreaming of vibrant futures to a girl preparing for a marriage I had never wanted? I picked up my sketchbook, flipping through the pages filled with my dreams and aspirations. Each drawing felt like a reminder of a life that was slipping away-my life.

A soft knock on the door broke my reverie. It was my mother, her expression softening when she saw me. "Livia, can I come in?"

I nodded, wiping my eyes. She entered and sat at the edge of my bed, concern etched on her face. "You've been so quiet lately. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Really."

She studied me for a moment before speaking again. "I know this is a lot to take in, and I want you to understand that we're doing this because we love you. We only want what's best for you."

"I know, Mom," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But it feels like... it feels like I'm being pushed into something I can't control."

"That's not our intention," she replied gently. "We just want you to have a secure future, a life that will provide for you. Mr. Moreno is a good man. He has connections, resources... he can help you establish yourself. Think of it as a partnership."

"A partnership?" I echoed, the bitterness rising in my throat. "It feels more like a business arrangement than a partnership. I don't want to be a part of a deal; I want to create and explore."

Her expression faltered. "But you can still do those things. You just have to find a balance. You're so talented, Livia. Don't let your dreams slip away. You can pursue your art while being with Mr. Moreno."

"But at what cost?" I asked, my frustration bubbling over. "I can't give up who I am just to fit into someone else's idea of happiness. I need to be true to myself."

She sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I wish you could see that this is what's best for you. You're still young, and you don't understand the realities of life yet."

"Maybe I don't, but I do know that I can't sacrifice my dreams for the sake of security," I said, my voice steadier now. "I need to find a way to live for myself, not just for what others expect of me."

My mother's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back, her expression hardening slightly. "You're making a mistake, Livia. You might not see it now, but you'll regret it."

"I'd rather regret my own choices than live a life dictated by someone else's expectations," I replied, feeling a surge of determination.

She stood up, her disappointment palpable. "I hope you find what you're looking for, but just know that the path you're choosing is fraught with uncertainty. You might find that security is worth sacrificing for."

As she left, I felt a deep ache in my chest. I didn't want to hurt my parents, but I also didn't want to lose myself. I picked up my sketchbook again, flipping to a blank page. I took a deep breath and began to draw, pouring my emotions onto the page, each stroke a declaration of my resolve.

The next day, I made a decision. I would meet with Mr. Moreno one last time. I needed to tell him how I truly felt about the arranged marriage while trying to maintain some sense of dignity.

As I approached him after class, I could see he was busy, surrounded by students seeking his guidance. I waited patiently until he had a moment to spare. When he finally turned to me, I could see the weariness in his eyes.