His Name Is Mugen

I Can't Do This

This is me attempting to be dramatic and hoping it goes well lol. Don't kill me if it doesn't. Enjoy :)
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I can do this.

I've been telling myself that for the better part of 4 years and each time I say it, the less I believe it. But, it's not just me being able to do it, I needed to do it.

At least that's what mother says.

I exhaled a small breath and tried not to look uncomfortable under the gaze of my fiancé. My 35 year old fiancé who was as creepy as he was annoying. He being Tyson Blue, ceo of BLUE BODYWORKS, a company notorious for its rich smelling perfume and colognes.

I picked up my glass of apple cider and took a small sip. It's taste was strong on my tongue and I suppressed my growing nerves.

I can do this.

"I'm really happy you agreed to marry me." He said with a gleeful smile that nauseated me. He knew I had no choice in this matter and my marriage to him was nothing more than a business arrangement that required my absolute loyalty to him and his absolute infidelity to me.

Basically, I was nothing more than a trophy to show to his friends and business associates to let them know he had won and would always win. He was just that powerful.

Nonetheless, I could do it. Play the loving house wife role and never have to work a day in my life. Have everything handed to me and simply birth a heir that I would leave the nannies to take care of while I bathed in diamonds and gold. All of this at the expense of my dignity, happiness, and livelihood. Simple enough right.

I can do this.

"You're everything I need and more, how could I have possibly said no." My smile didn't quite reach my eyes. I wonder when's the last time that I genuinely smiled. Or laughed so hard that my embarrassing habit of snorting came out.

I glanced around me. This restaurant was filled with rich executives, doctors, lawyers, you name it. All crowded in here to flash their wealth before their own peers. It was suffocating. I didn't belong here.

I picked up the fork and brought the steak and potatoes to my mouth and chewed slowly. I didn't want to be here but I had no choice. I stopped having choices when I turned 16. When my dad borrowed money from loan sharks to fund his gambling habit and brought our family into a chunk of debt. When the threats and demands became too much for my family to bare and my parents thought best to sell their daughters.

But actually "selling" us would be deemed illegal and inappropriate so the next option was to arranged a marriage with the highest bidder.

"It's for your family. Do what's best for your family." My mother had told me softly. Her voice was smooth and patronizing, trying to convince me it wasn't as bad as it seemed. I wanted to believe her so that's when I began telling myself I could do it.

But could I really do it?

My sister had.

"It's not so bad, Ras. Just think of all the riches and fancy clothing you get to rock. This is actually a blessing in disguise!" My sister Simran, who was two years younger than me, insisted. It was naive of her to say. She was 14 and going through the materialistic faze that most teenagers found themselves in. To her, money was everything and happiness was only a bonus that could be lived without.

She could do it so that meant I could as well. But then again, Simran didn't fully understand. She was young and naive, easily to manipulate at the sight of a stack. Her husband was a horny rich widow who came to her with the promise of taking care of her for the rest of her life. All she had to do was be faithful to only him and she'd never have to lift a finger. She jumped at the chance and my desperate parents made no attempts to check his background. He could of been a serial killer for all we knew.

"You smell so good. Are you wearing A Seductress's Haven?" Tyson sniffed the air around me. A Seductress's Haven was the name of his company's best selling perfume. It was the kind of perfume you wore when you were ready to make a baby anywhere at any given moment whether in the privacy of your bedroom sheets or publicly in a crowded restaurant's bathroom. My mom insisted I wear it to please my future husband.

I smiled as best I could without meeting his eyes. Instead my own eyes traveled far through the corridor that lead to the restrooms. Restrooms with windows that I had to talk myself out of going into.

I can do this.

Tyson licked his lips and I squeezed my thighs together. The thought of being married to him for the rest of my life was depressing. He was domineering and controlling. He didn't even let me order my own food, insisting my tastes were trash and he knew what was best for me. All night he had been talking about the duties and expectations he had of his wife. They were all bullshit so I won't even damage your brain cells by revealing them to you.

Thank me later.

"You're beautiful you know." He leaned close, too close for my liking. It took everything I had not to back away from him. His breath fanned my face and stung my eyes. "I can't wait to fuck you." He smirked. His eyes was lustful and predatorial. I was nothing more than a sack of meat that he'd fuck repeatedly until he got bored. His eyes made that much clear.

I can do this.

"Thank you." I smiled through my misery. I wanted to cry, to scream, to throw a tantrum, possibly even die. Anything to get away from him.

I can do this.

"You already know how I feel about you don't you?" He whispered in the worst seductive voice I had ever heard. I gripped my fork tighter and practically threw my food in my mouth. I chewed slowly trying to drag out the moments where I didn't have to speak to him.

"I know you do." He continued. I suddenly felt his hands on my kneecap. I stilled and almost choked on my food. I tried to relax and just let it happen. After all, it needed to be done.

"I also know why you're wearing that perfume. It's because you want me to fuck you until your eyes see our future." His hands went further up my legs. I already knew wearing a short mini dress was a bad idea, but now it just seemed like a suicide mission. His cold meaty hands felt like a slimy slug slithering up my leg.

I can do this.

I felt disgusted like a used napkin. I wanted to smack his hands off of me, but I couldn't. Tyson smiled at my silence. He was content with a submissive wife, one of the various requirements of being his wife.

I can do this.

"What do you say I pay the bill and we get to my apartment so I can show you why my ex still calls me from block numbers?" He stared me down. Nothing about what he said sounded exciting, more like stalking and criminal activity.

I can do this.

Before all this began, I dreamed of meeting the perfect guy. Not perfect as in no flaws but perfect as in he respected, honored, and truly loved me. Through all our flaws, mishaps, and mistakes we would alway find our way back into each other's arm like we were cut from the same cloth and attached together like the pieces of the same puzzle.

Could I do this?

I looked up at my fiancé that had risen from his seat and called the waiter over to pay the bill. He stared at me expectantly as he waited for me to rise too. I rose from my seat as tears sprang to my eyes and I said what I wanted to say for the last 4 years of my life.

"I can't do this."