il mio professore

Chapter 7 ~~✨

As we walked back toward the bustling campus, a growing sense of determination filled the air between us. I thought we had made the right choice, believing our families would understand. But reality was about to hit harder than I anticipated.

The following week, we arranged a meeting with our parents. I felt a mix of anxiety and hope as we sat around the dining table, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words. My heart raced as I glanced at Mr. Moreno, who gave me a reassuring nod.

"Thank you all for coming," I began, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "We wanted to talk about the arrangement between our families."

My mother looked up from her plate, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What about it?"

I exchanged a glance with Mr. Moreno before continuing, "We both have been doing a lot of thinking. We feel that an arranged marriage isn't what we truly want. We want to pursue our own paths, to explore our passions without feeling constrained."

The silence that followed was deafening. My father's brow furrowed in disbelief. "You're both young and don't understand the significance of what you're saying. This arrangement is not just about you; it's about family, legacy, and security."

Mr. Moreno spoke up, his voice firm yet respectful. "With all due respect, sir, our happiness should also be a part of the equation. We're not asking for an easy way out; we're simply asking for the chance to choose our own futures."

"Choose?" my mother interjected, her voice rising. "This isn't a game, Livia! Your future is at stake here. Mr. Moreno's family has invested in this union, and it's not something you can just dismiss lightly."

"We're not dismissing anything," I replied, feeling my resolve strengthen. "But we refuse to be forced into a life we don't want. We have dreams, aspirations, and we want the freedom to explore them."

"Do you think you know better than your parents?" my father thundered, his disappointment palpable. "This is a good match. You'll be well taken care of. You're being foolish."

I felt panic rising in my chest as the tension escalated. "It's not about being taken care of, Dad! It's about being true to ourselves!"

Mr. Moreno nodded in agreement, but before he could speak, my mother cut him off. "You're both being naive. This is how the world works. You think you can just walk away from all of this? You think you can just decide you don't want to marry? The negotiations have been made, and our families have invested too much."

My heart sank as I realized the depth of their commitment to this arrangement. "But we're the ones who have to live this life," I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Enough!" my father shouted, the finality in his tone silencing the room. "This is not a discussion. You will marry, Livia. You have no idea what you're throwing away. You will learn to appreciate what you have."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but there was a steely determination in me as well. "You can't force us into this. It's our lives!"

My mother's expression softened for a moment, but then hardened again. "You think you're making a choice, but there are consequences to your actions. The deal is done, and the wedding will happen as planned. You can either accept this, or you can face the fallout of disappointing both families."

The weight of her words crashed down on me like a tidal wave. I glanced at Mr. Moreno, who looked equally devastated. "I-I can't do this," I stammered, my voice breaking. "I can't marry someone just because our families want it. I need to follow my heart."

Mr. Moreno took a step forward, his expression fierce. "And I cannot betray my own feelings for Ms Acacius. But if our families are insistent, what choice do we have?"

"Your choice is to comply," my father said firmly. "You'll marry. It's not just about you anymore. You think this is about love, but it's about duty. And duty comes first."

The conversation devolved into a heated argument, with each parent defending their position, but all I could hear was the ringing in my ears. The reality of the situation began to sink in. I felt trapped, cornered by expectations and obligations that felt insurmountable.

In the days that followed, I couldn't shake the feeling of despair that settled over me. The wedding preparations began almost immediately, as if my parents were determined to push forward without any regard for my feelings. I felt like a puppet, my strings pulled by the hands of fate and familial loyalty.

As the wedding day approached, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread coupled with an unsettling numbness. Each day blurred into the next as the reality of my impending marriage loomed over me like a dark cloud. I barely had time to process my emotions as the preparations consumed everything-dress fittings, venue arrangements, and countless family meetings filled with laughter and excitement that felt utterly foreign to me.

The day before the wedding, I found myself in my room, staring out the window as the sun set, casting warm hues over the campus. I felt utterly lost. My dreams of freedom and self-discovery felt like distant memories, overshadowed by the weight of what was about to happen.

Just then, a soft knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. It was Mr. Moreno. His expression mirrored my own turmoil, a mix of resignation and frustration.

"Can we talk?" he asked quietly, stepping inside.

I nodded, grateful for his presence. "I don't know how we got here," I admitted, my voice trembling. "This isn't what I wanted. It feels like we're being suffocated by our families' expectations."

"I know," he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. It's not fair to either of us. We had a chance to choose our own paths, and now it's slipping away."

"What can we do?" I whispered, feeling hopeless.

He looked at me, his eyes intense. "We have to accept it, at least for now. We can't change our families' minds overnight. But we can make the best of this situation. We need to find a way to navigate this together."

I felt torn. The thought of abandoning my dreams felt like a betrayal, yet the idea of spending the rest of my life in a relationship built on obligation was suffocating.

"What if we can't make it work?" I asked, fear bubbling to the surface. "What if we end up resenting each other?"

He stepped closer, his voice softening. "We won't know unless we try. We can redefine what this marriage means for us. It doesn't have to be just a transaction. We can build a partnership based on respect and understanding. We can take it one day at a time."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I glanced out the window, the world outside so vibrant and alive. The thought of living a life dictated by others felt unbearable.

After a long silence, I took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll go through with the wedding. But I want us to promise each other that we'll communicate openly. If we're going to make this work, we need to be honest about our feelings and needs."

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he took my hands in his. "Agreed. We'll support each other, and we'll carve out our own space within this marriage. We'll be a team."

I nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. "Then let's make a pact. We'll make this work on our own terms, even if it's not what either of us envisioned."

As we stood there, hands clasped together, I felt a sense of solidarity forming between us. We were stepping into uncharted territory, but at least we would face it together. The road ahead might be uncertain, but I realized that I wasn't alone in this journey. Together, we would navigate the complexities of our new reality, striving to find our own identities within the roles that had been thrust upon us.

Should I do a pov of Mr Moreno??