4

Melissa

Sebastian insisted on driving me home, and at some point, I gave up. Apparently, he was a very stubborn man that had to have things his way.

Ascending the stairs of our opulent mansion, which had never truly felt like home, I realized we hadn't exchanged phone numbers, meaning I would likely never encounter him again. And for some inexplicable reason, that notion felt disheartening. There was something about Sebastian that drew me in, as if he were a magnet—an enigma I yearned to unravel.

Collapsing onto my bed, I closed my eyes, his image swirling in my mind. His dark hair stark against his fair complexion, his strong jawline perfectly complemented by his subtly smirked lips—his allure was undeniable. His firm, tattooed arms, encased in rolled-up sleeves, as he effortlessly shifted gears, lingered in my thoughts. Whether it was his captivating azure gaze or the hint of mystery surrounding him, I found myself intensely drawn to him.

I exhaled deeply.

Sebastian.

The name resonated with me, fitting his irresistible, captivating persona.

It was intriguing how this mysterious stranger with raven hair had managed to eclipse thoughts of my cheating boyfriend. I nestled into bed, drifting off to sleep with hopes of crossing paths with my newfound prince once more.

The following morning, I awoke earlier than usual, the night plagued by restless dreams haunted by images of Timothy and Audrey. Reluctantly, I emerged from my oversized bed, slipping into a silky white robe. Weekends were dreaded, prolonging my confinement within this gilded cage. Unfortunately, escape wasn't an option; my father insisted I remain until either graduation or marriage—whichever came first. He anticipated my union with Timothy, envisioning it as advantageous for our family's status. Previously, I had embraced the idea, perhaps as a means of coping with my circumstances, or as a bid for liberation from the clutches of a tyrant.

"Melissa! Open the door," came the booming voice, disrupting my thoughts. Speaking of the devil.

"What now?" I retorted sarcastically as I cracked the door open, only to be met with a chilling glare from my father. Gripping my elbow with a painful force, he dragged me into the living room without a word.

As we entered, the television murmured in the background. My father's jaw clenched, his eyes ablaze with fury—an all too familiar sight, though the cause remained unclear. That was until the news anchor's words pierced the air.

"Melissa Atkinson, daughter of this year's gubernatorial candidate, Cedrick Atkinson, was spotted entering a hotel room with a mysterious, handsome man. While the man's identity remains elusive, it has been confirmed that it wasn't her longtime boyfriend, Timothy Ledford."

My blood ran cold. I looked at the 100-inch TV showing pictures of Sebastian and me entering his suite with shock on my face. My heart was pumping so heavily that it felt like it would jump out of my rib cage. Icy shivers continued to sweep up and down my spine. I turned to face my father, who was staring at me spitefully. He had never loved me. He only cared about his reputation—especially a few weeks before the elections. And my relationship with Timothy suited him. Robert Ledford, Timothy’s father, was the current governor, and because of his son and partially because of me, he was endorsing my father in his campaign. Now, I understood my father’s outrage after he saw the news. And I knew the fact that my boyfriend had cheated on me with my fucking friend wouldn’t have any meaning to him.

“Robert called me a few minutes ago, disgusted with the whole situation,” my father hissed through clenched teeth. “He hopes it’s just a fatal misunderstanding, and you have a fair reason why you entered a stranger’s room in the middle of the night.”

“Maybe he should ask his son.” I scoffed, boiling inside at the thought of Timothy getting into Audrey’s pants just a few hours ago.

“Listen, Melissa.” He took a few steps toward me. “I don’t care what happened yesterday.”

I cut him off, “Of course, who would care about their offspring?”

“I’m not done speaking!” He clenched his fists and hit on the marble countertop of a square table standing in the middle of the living room. “You are all over the news, young lady! Not Timothy! And I haven’t put so much effort into raising you in vain! You won’t ruin my life because of some teenage drama!”

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t help but mock him. “Effort into raising me? You haven’t done shit for me except for providing me with money for my education! But at what price?”

“Shut up, Melissa!” he shouted aggressively, barely holding back from hitting me. A rash caused his pale rosy cheeks to turn a deep shade of red. “Listen carefully because I’ll say this only once. You’re going to marry Timothy, and your engagement party will be held in a week.”

WHAT?!

I stood there, speechless. My eyes wandered all over my father’s flushed face, hoping I’d find even the slightest trace of something that would imply he was joking. He couldn’t be serious. He had no right to make such significant decisions for me. I glanced over at the TV screen that no longer showed the pictures of my pictures with Sebastian, and I swallowed a huge lump in my throat. Just a few days ago, I would react a hundred and eighty degrees differently. I would be counting the days to marry him, elated that I’d escape this Hades. But that was before I caught Timothy with Audrey—andbefore I met Sebastian.So moving out from the tyrant my father was to a cheater myex-boyfriend was, wasn’t an appealing option anymore.

“Over my dead body!” I stomped my feet for the first time in my life, so determined to finally stand up for myself.

“Don’t tempt me,” my father scoffed.

I took a step back, and my jaw fell wide open. I couldn’t believe how effortlessly my own father would trade my happiness for his own benefits. I’d always wondered what I did that he was refusing me his love. I’d heard bits of my parents’ quarrels about something that had happened in the past, but suddenly, their mouths would seal up whenever I’d bring the topic up. I found it odd, but I’d never dug too deep because I knew it was pointless. I knew they would tell me nothing. Or maybe, I was too tired of this life to care?

“You don’t have much of a choice, you know?” He continued, mockingly, as if my misery was entertaining to him. “Everything is already arranged. As we talk, guests are invited, and the official announcement will go viral at noon.” He took a few steps toward me, locking his dark eyes with mine. Then he hissed in a low tone that caused goose bumps on my skin. “And don’t try any tricks with me, Melissa. I’m warning you. I had to bribe the head of the TV stations to stop airing the news about you. You cost me way more than you’re worth.”No matter how many times I’d heard that it always hurt just the same.

“I will n—” I tried to object, but he put his finger over my lips. His cold touch felt paralyzing.

“Timothy is going to propose to you, and you will say yes. Understood?” He smiled in the most cynical way I’d ever seen before moving back. He fixed his well-tailored grayish jacket and reached for his phone from the pocket of his matching pants. He ignored me completely, having his eyes glued to the digital screen, so of course, he didn’t see the pain written all over my face. “You may go now. I guess you have yoga in an hour. You don’t want to be late.”

Wow, what a caring father. He knows his daughter’s schedule by heart.

I’d heard that too many times. But the truth was, he demanded I report everything I did to him. And I felt like a princess imprisoned in a high tower, waiting for her knight to come and rescue her. Too bad my knight turned out to be a cheating ass.

"Melissa, are you with us?" Teresa's clear voice jolted me back to the present.

We were in the private gym, engaged in our Saturday routine of yoga followed by Pilates and a vegan lunch together. It felt like my life had been consumed by decay, but at least my lifestyle was flourishing. Exercise served as an excellent outlet for my pent-up emotions, helping me maintain my sanity and physical fitness.

"What were you saying?" I replied, wiping sweat from my brow and readjusting my ponytail.

"You seem off today," Teresa observed, scrutinizing me with a furrowed brow. "Did something happen?"

"I suppose you'll find out at noon," I replied cryptically, exhaling deeply. Sitting down against the wall, I stared blankly at my reflection in the mirrored wall ahead. Teresa joined me, offering a supportive presence.

"Mel, what's going on? You know you can confide in me, right?" She gently squeezed my shoulder, her concern evident, and I mustered a forced smile.

Despite Teresa's kindness and our shared interests, I hadn't fully disclosed my struggles to her. She remained unaware of the tyranny my father imposed at home. Behind the façade of our luxurious mansion, I carried my darkest secrets alone, maintaining a charade for the world. Perhaps I lacked the strength to confront reality, so I continued to deceive everyone, including myself.

"It's nothing, don't worry," I reassured softly, offering a smile that usually dissuaded further probing. People tended to back off once they received the response they sought. However, Teresa persisted.

"Is it about that guy from the news?" she ventured cautiously, concern etched in her expression. She didn't intend to pry but genuinely cared for me. Had I faltered in my acting?

“Well, partially,” I sighed.

“Are you having an affair with him?” She gazed at me apologetically, her mahogany-toned face inflamed with shame.

“No.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. She looked so adorable with the unnecessary guilt written her eyes. “Although, I wish I had.”

“What?” She didn’t hide the astonishment. I didn’t blame her. After all, everyone at Stanford called Timothy and me a “golden couple.” They perceived us as a perfect match, made for each other, cut from the same cloth. And until yesterday, I believed so, too.

“Never mind.” I brushed it off. Knowing I had no choice but to follow my father’s “orders,” I didn’t want to tell her what I’d witnessed the night before. I knew she wouldn’t understand why I agreed to marry a guy who fucked my friend behind my back. The truth was, I wasn’t sure of that myself. I guess it’s called fear. Weakness. “We should get going.” I stood up and grabbed my backpack.

ABOUT HALF AN HOUR LATER, freshened up, we headed toward the building exit. I grabbed the doorknob, only to see Timothy through the glass door. In an instant, a smile washed off my face, and a stone-cold gaze took its place.

“Timothy!” Teresa exclaimed enthusiastically, but I couldn’t tame my anger. I pushed the door with all my force, nearly hitting my ex in his face, but unfortunately, he managed to step back just in time.

“Melissa, wait!” He took hold of my arm, stopping me. “Baby, please, let me explain,” he said pleadingly, and I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw and fists. I let out a heavy breath, trying not to lose it. “I tried to call you–”

“Leave me alone, you fucking asshole!” I hissed, firmly yanking out of his grip, and Teresa gave us a “what the hell” look. “And don’t you ever call me baby again.”

“I’ll give you guys a moment,” Teresa uttered.

“No. It’s okay, Tess,” I objected, giving Timothy a spiteful look straight in his lying eyes. “We’re done here.” I rushed to leave, but Timothy seized my arm again, not letting me go.

“Thank you, Tess.” He glanced over at my friend, who nodded uncertainly.

“I’ll see you around, Melissa,” she muttered, giving me an apologetic look, and left.

I set my gaze on a random object ahead of me and kept tapping my foot, exasperated. “I don’t want to listen to your stupid excuses, Timothy.”

"Give me five minutes," he murmured, a hint of annoyance mingled with a plea in his voice.

"Fine, five minutes," I acquiesced with a sigh, feeling disappointed in myself. Yet, deep down, I knew I had no other option. My father was adamant about arranging my marriage, and I suspected the news had already spread like wildfire while we conversed. There was little I could do to prevent it; I was merely a pawn in my father's schemes—a puppet easily disposed of if it made a misstep or became obsolete.

"Good. Come on," he said, turning to open the car door for me. "Get in."

Timothy selected a discreet location, ensuring I wouldn't cause a scene. He took me to my favorite outdoor restaurant and ordered the coffee I always preferred—playing the role of the loving boyfriend, huh?

“Melissa, it was a fatal misunderstanding.” He reached for my hand that I nervously played with on the wooden table, and I instantly removed it.

“A fatal misunderstanding?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “I always knew she’d set her eyes on you, but I didn’t think you were fucking her behind my back.”

“Lower your voice, please,” he hissed, and I burst into derisive laughter.

“Or what?”

“I guess you don’t want to make a scene here, do you?” I knew he brought me here to avoid a real confrontation.

“How long, Timothy?” I looked him in the eyes, and even though I tried to hide the pain he caused me, I knew he could see it. “How long have you been cheating on me?”

“I’m not cheating on you, Melissa,” he replied firmly, adjusting himself on the chair. “It was a mistake. I was drunk and frustrated. Guys kept mocking me that they get laid more than I do even though they’re single.”

“Oh, poor you.” I pouted my lips, making a sad face. “Of course, it’s a good reason to cheat on your girlfriend. Why am I even mad?” I was dripping with sarcasm, and he rolled his eyes.Why did he even talk about our sex life with his friends?Pathetic.

“Baby, I’m sorry, okay?” He tried to sound repentant, but I couldn’t spot even a trace of regret on his face. “But nothing happened. I swear.”

“Nothing happened because I interrupted you.” I sneered.

“Okay, I won’t lie.” He rested back on the chair, sighing. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if it weren’t for you, but I’m so glad you found us, Melissa. I don’t want anyone else but you, and I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost you.”

“Too late, Timothy,” I said dryly. “You already lost me. No matter what happens next, I’ll never be yours again.” Even if it meant leading an unhappy life beside the man I didn’t love. Just like my mother.

“But we’re getting married—”

“So you knew about it.” I scoffed, looking away. The more time I spent with the man I used to see my future with, the more sheer disappointment rushed through me. How could I be so blind before?

“My father mentioned that to me some time ago,” he admitted reluctantly.

“So you’re just like them. You take part in their games. Let them manipulate me.”

“It’s not like that, Melissa.” He furrowed his brows, trying to grab my hand again, but I didn’t let him. I didn’t want him to touch me. I was disgusted that I trusted him while he played me this whole time. “I thought you’d be happy. And I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you. Baby, I’ve always wanted to marry you. I love you.”

“Save it, Timothy.” I threw a napkin that I kept squeezing in my hand and stepped away from the table. “If you loved me as you claim you do, you wouldn’t have put your hands down my friend’s pants.”