Jackie Simmons
No matter how rude Brad was, I could not bring myself to hate him. In fact, it was the very opposite. Every time he passed me, I felt a small flutter in my heart. Despite the feeling of euphoria every time I was around him, I also felt annoyed because he clearly showed his dislike for me. But I was ready to show him that I could be normal. I had a feeling that maybe he thought I was a gold digger, or maybe he thought I advocated for this marriage.
Whatever the reason for his rudeness was, I was ready to resolve conflict and move forward. The truth was, I would not mind marrying him, but I would never admit that to my parents.
Brad and I were all sitting down to eat at the engagement party. What I hated the most was that I was at a table all alone with Brad in the corner of the room. So, if he were to act as despicable as he did earlier, no one would notice. I don't think anyone would necessarily care how he acted either, and that realization was sadder than the fact that I was forced to marry him.
"So, where are you from?" Brad suddenly asked. Part of me wondered why he asked the question. It was clear that he was disappointed in every way possible with this entire situation.
I lowered my head, immediately shy as I mumbled a reply. "Kenya, but my family moved to America when I was five."
"I'm surprised you survived in a place like America. You seem like a spoiled brat," he remarked, and the offense came off as disrespectful. He really hated me and was not afraid to give his opinions. But, I was bullied before I was in homeschooling, once upon a time, and because of that, I was not very quick to defend myself. That was why I tried to make so many friendships throughout my childhood. I thought that making everyone my friend would stop the bullying but it didn't. Brad was slowly taking me back to those less than happy memories. Life wasn't a Hallmark film, but I desired for Brad and I to have a decent relationship. We didn't have to be in love. A friendship would be all I needed, but it was clear that Brad planned on treating me like nothing.
I felt tears come to my eyes, and I lowered my head even more. But suddenly, I felt a hand grab my chin, forcing my head up. I was so vulnerable that I lifted my eyes just to see Brad gripping my chin. I closed my eyes while trying to stop my heart from beating so fast.
"Look at me while I'm talking to you," he whispered against my cheek in a very harsh voice.
"Sorry," I said instantly. I felt stupid for not defending myself. But what could I possibly say? I like him enough to be cordial with him. He didn't like me at all; he despised me. I wanted a friendship with him. He hated my existence. So 'sorry' was the only word that could come to my mind and the only emotion that I could express in true honesty.
He released me, and I breathed out loud in relief. He got up, walking away to use the bathroom. I closed my eyes, still feeling the touch of his hand on my chin.
This was going to be a long night.
*
*
*
When my family and I arrived at home, I was very tired. But before I could walk up to my room and go to sleep, my mother called me back into the living room.
"Jackie!" I heard my mom yell.
"Yes?" I asked, appearing in front of my mother.
"We are not going to sugarcoat anything, Patrice," my father relayed to my mother and then he said to me, "The wedding will be two weeks from now."
"What do you mean? But father, you have to at least give me a month or two to get to know him. He does not want any of this," I begged, looking up at my father with eyes of despair.
I loved my family, but sometimes I wondered if they really loved me as much as they claimed. If they did, then why did they insist on marrying me so soon? I understood that Brad had money, and that this marriage would make my family's financial and social status better. Nonetheless, I was still disappointed and more hurt than I could ever admit. Even though I did not mind marrying Brad, I still wanted a couple of months to get to know him. But now, even that was taken away from me like every other choice was stolen from me.
"Jackie, you cannot hide from marriage any longer. Don't be a baby, Sweetie. I was put into an arranged marriage with your mother at only sixteen years old in Africa. Be glad you're of age," my father calmly replied.
"But he hates me," I stressed, and I wanted to scream very loudly. Before I got a chance to convince Brad I was a decent person, I had to marry him.
"He'll come around," my mother said, rolling her eyes. To her, this decision was something that I would thank her for. Who knew? Maybe I would thank her for making me marry Brad. But I would never thank her for taking my decisions away.
"No, Mother. You don't get it, Brad hates me. I need more time to get to know him. Please, I beg of you," I pleaded and both of my parents' eyes softened.
"We will grant your wish. You will have one extra week to get to know him. Now, the ceremony will take place in three weeks. That is the most time we can stretch this wedding event. Your marriage is part of a important business deal to unite both of our families," my mother strictly informed me.
Some people would be angry that their own parents were using them in business deals. But I was used to it, and I was involved in most of my parents' deals. After all, my mother is a famous pianist and owner of the majority of classical concert halls in New York. And my father, a businessman, was invested in running oil companies overseas.
Therefore, my family was the topic of local newspapers and magazines. So, with that being said, it was no big deal for me to be actively involved in the business deals. I was used to being disregarded, but I never thought my parents were this uncompassionate, or maybe they were always like this, and I never noticed it. Clearly, I did not know my parents as well as I thought I did. But deep down inside, I just wanted to be a normal nineteen-year-old with a normal life, and that was not a huge desire.
I felt a lump form in my throat, and the urge to cry presented itself, but I held in whatever tears I had as I spoke to my parents.
"Okay, I'm tired. Goodnight," I stated, walking to my room.
I decided to accept my fate. But the main problem at hand was how Brad would react when he heard we were to be wed soon. I cringed as I thought about how angry he would be. So instead, I decided to think about something else I liked very much. His eyes.
That night, as I lay in my bed to sleep, I dreamed of a pair of deep brown eyes full of hate. I knew those eyes were full of hatred towards me. But I could not help myself as I hoped and dreamed that night for those eyes that belonged to my future husband to shine with happiness for me. And yes, I am aware. That dream was indeed unrealistic.
YOU ARE READING
Always Broken (Book 1 and 2)
Ficção Adolescente"Stop crying," he growled, gripping my chin in his hand. When I did not stop crying, he took his teeth and bit my neck hard, making a mark on me. I whimpered as I wiped my tears, keeping my mouth sealed. I wanted to scream but once again, I did not...
