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“Jesus.” I let out a laugh.
Max is the kind of man whose words could kill, but his intentions are in the right place. It’s not only his words that could kill, but his expressions too. The only reason I’m able to make jokes with him is because we grew up together. If we’d only just met, I would be deeply offended by his words, and his glares.
“Try not to piss off Papa today, all right?”
Max is the first child. The favorite child. The golden child, as some would say. Parents shouldn’t have favorites, but mine do. He is the one who will carry the family name. He hasn’t yet, which is a shocker, but he will one day if he gets his priorities right.
He used to be a happy person, but the light in him died one night– I wish I knew what happened.
“I won’t.” I mean that. It’s my sister’s day, and I don’t want to ruin it for her.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who defies Papa’s rules. It’s not that I want to.Well,I kind of do.
The deal I made with him has given me a sense of freedom. The moment he begins to talk about what the future for me will be like, I shut down. I plan to live this last month to my full potential.
It’s a lot of fun seeing him on edge. He never wanted to agree to the deal, but something my mama said made him. Ever since the ink of his pen signed the paper on my eighteenth birthday, it’s like he can’t stand to look at me. It’s upsetting, but I understand.
He is always business. In his mind he needs to send me off to a man as soon as possible so that there’s less of a threat to our family. He doesn’t care who I end up with. As long as I give my future husband a son, Papa won’t complain. He loves us—but we come second.
Which is bullshit, in my opinion.
The life I was born into is bullshit in general.
“I’ll see you at the table?” I ask my brother as I slowly start to walk away.
“Soon.”
Before I plant myself on a seat at a table full of psycho men, I need another drink. Papa did not waste a penny on any of the decorations—even the bar has crystal flowers lining the counter.
It’s extraordinary. This is how I would want my wedding to be. But I will never give in to Papa’s tactics. I told him I will marry the man I fall in love with, no exceptions.
As I think back on that day, I can’t help but laugh at my own stupidity. In what world could a weak daughter convince her father that she will do what she wants?
I had some kind of guardian angel hovering above me that day when my mama stepped into the middle of our argument. She somehow convinced him that my deal was a good one. Something along the lines of: “Wait two more years until she evolves into the woman she should be.”
Her words hurt at the time, but knowing my mama’s pure heart and intentions, I know she only said those things to try to win him around.
My birthday is in a month. My twentieth birthday.
I’m holding off going to the table full of my family, and my now extended family, because I know what they’ll talk about.
I’m not ready.
“Green tea shot,” I tell the bartender as his eyes lift slowly to mine. His hair is a messy blond, and his eyes are bright blue.
His lips curve into a smile—one so subtle I almost miss it.
“Already a rough day?”
To say the least. “Yes, what gave that up?”
“I hear things, that’s all.”
Even the freaking bartender hears about me. Being given away to a random man like a piece of candy is inevitable at this point.
I take a seat on the stool next to the bar, my hands cupping my face as my elbows hold me up.
It’s been a good run.
