Love Is More Than A Contract

Watching my name being written down on a contract by someone else’s hand was disturbing. My parents signing me off to the Rocha family was expected. When I found out they needed money, I knew they would go to the most powerful and wealthiest family in the United States.

“Angela Duncan,” the man said holding the contract, “You are now legally bound to marry Brian Rocha when you turn the age of 24.”

That’s me, Angela Duncan. I will meet Brian Rocha for the first time tomorrow, and we will be married in a year.

I turned to see my parents; not a single hint of remorse in their eyes, “We love you, Angela.”

And what else am I supposed to say to that besides, “I love you both too.”

I was then ushered away from my parents. The last image I had of my mom and dad was of them receiving a check.

It was weird, being in my fiancé’s room; a fiancé I’ve never met before. They told me I would move in as soon as the contract was signed. Having no choice, I packed my things without a word of rebuttal to my parents. I knew how much they need the money. And they never really wanted a daughter so, why not right? It was a good exchange.

I think.

I sat down on the bed cautiously. Testing what’s the difference of this bed from my own. I bounced on it a little, enjoying the extra fluffiness. But then out of nowhere, I hear a chuckle, “Glad to see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

With my body stiffening, I held my breath, waiting for the cruelty so known in the Rocha family. I felt a hand on the small of my back; it was placed softly. I slowly stood up, my back to him still.

“S-sorry.” I managed to stammer out, “I could go to the guest room – “

“Nonsense.” He said, his voice dripping with honey, “You should stay here, you’re my fiancé after all.”

“But we’re strangers, too.” I said, wincing at my honesty. To my surprise, he chuckled and spun me around, making me face him, “I plan on getting to know you then. We have a year.”

I gulped as he forced me to stare into his stunning green eyes. My head nodded on its own volition. He shook his head, “Use your voice.”

“Okay,” I said, a bit weakly. He has this aura that’s making me want to sink to my knees, “I want to get to know you too.”

He tucked my hair behind my eyes, smiling, “My name’s Brian.”

“I’m Angela.” I said, voice small and shaking.

“Why are you shaking?” He asked, head tilting to the right.

“I don’t know.” I answered, but I knew.

“Don’t lie to me, Angela.” He said sweetly, with all the patience in the world.

“I’m scared.” I said the truth this time.

“Don’t be, I won’t hurt you.” He said with a gently smile.

And for some reason, I believed him.

-- --

“We have to postpone our wedding.” I whipped my head around at Brian’s statement. He looked at me as if what he just said wasn’t a big bomb.

“You want to postpone our wedding?” I asked cautiously, rolling the words off my tongue.

“I’m sorry,” he said without remorse, “But I have some business to attend to for the family.” He was looking at the mirror, fixing his tie. I was at the other side of the room, wearing my heels.

“Oh,” I said a bit deflated, “I understand.”

He walks towards me, lifting my chin up with his finger so I could look him in the eyes. They’re just as green as the day I first met him. Everything about him hasn’t changed; except for the fact that sometimes he feels so far away, detached.

But at this moment, he seems like how he was before, “You always do,” he smiles and strokes my cheek, “That’s why I love you.”

I smile, my heart warming, “I love you too.”

He kisses my forehead, “I promise, the week after we’ll have our wedding.”

“I can’t wait.” I said, finding comfort in his feather-like kiss.

There was a knock on the door and our maid came in, looking very regretful for disturbing us, “I’m so sorry to bother, but your limo is downstairs, my sir and ma’am.”

I looked at Brian; he looked back at me with eyes now seeming distant now, “Your friend, Laurel, will be in this event, right?”

Confused, I nodded my head, “Laurel Gibbs? Yeah, she’ll be at my birthday party.”

He nods, a faint smile on his lips, “That’s good. All your friends should be at your 24th birthday party.”

I watched as he walked out of the room, forgetting his phone. I grabbed it, about to call out to him but his phone pinged with a message. I saw the message accidentally; his message previews were private but the name on the message was “true love”.

I dropped his phone, my heart dropping along with it.