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I frown, wondering what he means by grooming. I was sent to Aunt Diana because there was no one else here who would have taken proper care of me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him because I want this trip to be as painless as possible. I want to be on my way as soon as my father explains why he has sent for me. It is obvious it isn’t for a father-daughter reunion.
“Take your seat.” He gives me a hard glare.
I glance at the table. He is at the head while Simon is sitting on his right. I take my place on his left side, though I would have preferred to be at the end of the table. I don’t feel comfortable being this close to my father.
He presses a bell, and Mrs. Latha and some other girls in uniform enter with different dishes. I wonder why they have prepared so much when we will barely eat a quarter of it. The rich aroma fills my nostrils, and my stomach growls, reminding me that the last time I ate was at breakfast. Toast and an omelet.
The girls place the delicacies on the table before they leave. Mrs. Latha stays back. My father points at a platter of beef, and Mrs. Latha puts some on his plate. He keeps directing her without uttering a word until she finishes dishing his food. My brother does the same, although he is more vocal than my father.
When it comes to my turn, I say, “Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself,”
Mrs. Latha is about to say something when my father cuts in.
“Dish her food,” he snaps.
I freeze at how cold he sounds. His eyes aren’t on Mrs. Latha or me. Instead, he casually picks up his cutlery and starts digging into his food. His message is clear; he dares me to disobey.
“I’ll have the pot roast, please,” I tell Mrs. Latha, and she hurriedly puts some on my plate.
“Will that be all?” she asks, and I nod. I can feel the tension radiating from her. I hope I haven’t gotten her into trouble. “Don?” she asks my father but he dismisses her with a wave of his hand.
Mrs. Latha nods and she quickly leaves the room. I wish I had the choice to leave, too. I would prefer to be anywhere other than this place. Once again, I’m left wondering why my father has asked me to come here. Finding out is the only way to ensure a speedy departure.
Perhaps I will ask in the middle of our meal.
We start eating in silence. Although I am hungry, and the pot roast is delicious, my stomach churns at the growing tension.
And then, it happens.
“You should prepare for tomorrow,” my father says.
Prepare?
I give him a puzzled look, wondering what I am preparing for.
“For what?” I blurt before I can help myself. My father gives me a displeased look, like he hates that I’m questioning his order. “I meant to say, what am I preparing for?” I ask more calmly. That seems to appease him.
“You are going to meet your husband-to-be,” he replies.
My what???
I’m so shocked that I instantly choke on my mouthful of pot roast. It sounded a lot like he said the word “husband.” Surely, there must be something wrong with my hearing. Maybe I should get it checked as soon as I get back home to my aunt.
Simon and my father stare at me as I try to catch my breath. I hurriedly grab my glass of water and drink to ease the coughing. I glance at my father, wondering if this is a prank, but I know he never plays games like that.
“I beg your pardon?” I ask.
“I don’t like repeating myself. You are getting married soon. It’s a good idea for you to meet your husband-to-be before your wedding,” my father says with a shrug.
I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing. I throw all caution to the wind as I stare at my father like he’s gone crazy.
“Hold on a second. Have I woken up in the wrong dimension? What husband? What wedding? The last time I checked, I wasn’t even dating anyone. Why would I be getting married?”
“It is good that you have no relationship. However, even if you did, you would have to end it,” my father says.
I gape at him in shock. The world suddenly begins to spin around me, like I’m losing my mind. A mix of emotions suddenly flood my mind, but it’s mostly rage and shock.
