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I lean down and kiss her lips. It’s brief, it’s soft, and it's all I can do right now to tell her I’m here. I am with you in this. You are not alone.
The drive to the office is painful. It’s so damn hard leaving her again. Apart from returning home to shower myself and grab Indie some clothes, I’ve been by her side at the hospital all weekend. Pharrell lets me off out front, and with every step I take towards my office, regret fills me more and more for leaving her.
“Where the fuck have you been?” My father looks at me from the office chair behind my desk as I walk into my office.
I drop my briefcase on the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“I’ve been trying to call you all weekend. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I have been busy sorting out Liam and the shit trail he’s left behind.”
“Well, I have decided I’m well enough to come back to work. I will take over again until we get things smoothed over. Then when your wedding is done, and you and Georgina are settled, you can take the reins again. I will retire.”
“Wedding?” I raise a brow at him.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Roman.” He frowns. “We’ve discussed this a million times.”
I lower my head in annoyance. “What difference does it make if I get married and have children this year or ten years from now? What is your fucking hurry?”
Steam practically pours from his ears as his face contorts into pure frustration. “It matters. Look around you, Roman. Do you think you have this life because I waited for the fate fairy to come along and sprinkle her magic dust.” He slams his hands on the desk. “No, I made things happen. I made all of this, and I made you.”
Raising a brow at his remark, I take a seat on the sofa, crossing my leg over the other. “I can’t believe you’re still pushing for this arranged marriage idea. It’s the twenty-first century, not some outdated tradition that we need to cling to,” I argue, frustration evident in my voice. My father rooted in the cultural norms he grew up with, looks at me sternly.
“Son, it’s about preserving our values and ensuring a stable future for you. This isn’t just about tradition; it’s about responsibility,” he responds, his tone reflecting a mix of concern and conviction. “This family was built on traditions, and I will not allow you to ruin everything I worked so hard for. Your grandfather would be rolling over in his grave if he could hear you right now.”
“What about what I want? Doesn’t that matter to you?” I sigh, hoping my father will show some compassion in his failing heart. “I don’t love her. I doubt I ever will.”
My father lets out a sigh of his own, his eyes softening. “I understand your desire for love, but there’s more to a successful marriage than just love. Compatibility, family values, and social harmony matter too. Arranged marriages have worked for generations, and they’re not as restrictive as you think.” The generational gap and clash of perspectives linger in the air, each of us holding onto our beliefs, hoping the other would see the merit in our viewpoint. “Your mother and I were in an arranged marriage, and we had a wonderful life together.”
“Ha, ha. A wonderful life?” I mock a laugh. “You are kidding, right?” I have to restrain myself from knocking him the fuck out. “You made her so miserable she drank herself to death.”
My father's face turns pale as his mouth gapes open. “That is not fair, Roman. You know your mother had an illness.”
“Yes, you! You were her illness. You pushed her and pushed her to be the perfect wife and mother until you pushed her over the edge.”
The air around us thickens, my father almost choking on the harshness of my words.
“Whatever happened is done. It’s in the past, and it does nobody any good to ponder on it,” he says so calmly, there’s a morbidness in his tone. I struck a nerve, and it cut him deep. “Whether you believe it or not, I loved your mother dearly, and at the end of the day, I do not need to explain myself or my marriage to you. I’m not your friend, Roman. I am your father, but that does not mean I’m your enemy. I see the potential you have and cannot stand by and watch you throw it all away.”
I huff with irritation. I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. He just does not get it. “I’m not throwing anything away. I just don’t want to marry someone because of their status and power. You say I have potential, then let me use that to find a wife of my choosing, in my own time.”
“Time is something I don’t have, Roman, nor does this company. Our influence in this city is diminishing, times are changing, and new powers are at play every goddamn day. I’ve been doing everything I can to stop it, and that includes this marriage arrangement. I can’t stress enough the importance of it to this company.”
“That’s not fair to put the weight of this family and this company on my shoulders.”
“Life isn’t fair, Roman. I’ve made many sacrifices to ensure this legacy is upheld. So, quit being so selfish, and grow the fuck up.”
“It’s not selfish to want a life of my own, Dad. Is it so bad of me to have dreams of my own?”
“Ha.” He laughs. “I know what your dreams look like Roman. Trouble!” He rocks back in the chair and crosses his arms, glaring at me. “Do you think I don’t know who you’ve been with all weekend?”
I crease my brows at him, suddenly aware of where he’s about to go with this conversation.
“End it with her now.”
“Excuse me?” My mouth gapes open. “Have you been spying on me?”
“You left me no choice, Roman. The look you gave me on Friday night after Liam, wasn’t one I could gamble my son's life with. I know what Liam did is unforgivable, but he’s still my son, and I couldn’t trust that you would let me deal with him in my own way.”
