Love after Divorce

My name is Paige Harper, and I'm 21 years old. My parents own one of the bigger construction companies in London.

I'm an only child, much to my father's dismay, who always wanted a son. According to him, "women are meant to stay at home." I've been trying for years to make him understand that times have changed and that I am capable of looking after the company and making it grow much more than he has. However, he doesn't believe me and is determined to marry me off to secure the future of the company.

Needless to say, I don't agree with getting married, especially not to someone I don't know. The worst part is that if I refuse, I won't be able to continue studying the remaining year and a half of business administration since my father will kick me out if I don't marry the man, he found for me.

What kind of man agrees to marry for money? Surely none who is a good and honest person.

Tonight, I have an important dinner, which my father, as always, organized without informing me. He says there's no need to inform me since I don't do anything all day. I'm so tired of living with them that if I could, I would leave. Unfortunately, my parents are elderly, and anyone interested can take advantage of them just to gain access to the company. I only look after their interests so that they have a good life.

My father is about to retire, with only two years left. After that, he will travel with my mother. If you're wondering how, it's possible for my parents to be so old when I'm only 21, well, as I mentioned before, I'm an only child. They spent years trying to become parents, trying various methods, and eventually resorted to surrogacy. It's a bit crazy, I couldn't imagine giving away a child that grew inside me. When I was born, they took care of me from the very first minute of my life.

I never knew who the person was that carried me in their womb for months, but it didn't really matter to me, just as it didn't matter to them. My mother was already over 40 years old when I was born, and my father was nearly 50.

My childhood was beautiful; they indulged me in all my whims. Although I must admit, I'm not very materialistic. For me, the value lies in the time given to me, the time dedicated solely to me. That holds more value for me than the most expensive car in the world. Luckily, my father always made time for me, even though he worked until the weekends. He always finds time to talk or have a coffee with me. I say "he still does" because he continues to make time for me.

My mother is more into knitting; when we have our coffees, she doesn't interrupt those father-daughter moments.

She is more into reading and knitting, in addition to taking care of her baby, a little dog that looks like a toy, or rather, a fluffy stuffed animal. Sometimes I'm afraid of stepping on her. She is small and very attached to my mom. Wherever my mother is, the dog, whose name is Sofia, is there too. I insisted that Sofia is not a suitable name for a dog, but her response was, "Even better, Sofia is like a daughter to me, not just a dog that can have a vulgar pet name." After hearing her say that I preferred to remain silent.

Arguing about the name of her pet was silly and a waste of time. In the end, I nodded, conceding the point, even though I know she's wrong.

As for my mother, what matters most to her is what people will say, how you present yourself at an important gathering, always looking good, with makeup, a styled hairdo, and, above all, maintaining a figure that others envy so that your husband won't look at other women. Ugh, what can I say about that? I don't share the same view, and she knows it. The only time she said that to me, I shared my perspective, and when she learned my way of thinking, she didn't speak to me for two months.

What's wrong with believing that if a man, who is supposedly your husband, looks at another woman, it's best to end the marriage and go your separate ways? I don't mean that just looking is a problem, because obviously, we all look. The issue is if they cheat on you; that's a different story. I wouldn't be able to forgive infidelity; I could never live with someone who has been or is capable of being with another woman. Loyalty is important to me; it's something I don't compromise on.

Tired of my mother's glances, I take a bath before going to the hair salon. There's no point in arguing about this topic. It's always her way that prevails. She allowed me to get my hair styled and wear makeup, although the girl in charge knows that I prefer a natural look, nothing too vibrant or exaggerated. The gathering is a formal dinner, so I have the dress waiting for me in my room. If you're wondering where I am, well, I'm in a room that the makeup artist exclusively uses for that purpose. That's how pretentious my mother is. I remember as if it were yesterday when I longed to be like her. I was around 5 years old, dreaming of wearing makeup and being at dinners with my parents. If only my parents' friends were less hypocritical, attending wouldn't be such a torment. But those people are on the fast track to hell. It's stupid to put on a smile when everyone who will be there is only interested in buying their company and making money. However, I won't let that happen.

Now that I'm ready, according to my mother, I finally go to get dressed. My dress is simple yet elegant, a perfect blend of sophistication and allure. Physically, I would say I'm fairly average. I don't have a model's body since I have excess fat in my legs and rear. As for my upper body, I have a bust, but nothing exaggerated. When they weren't growing, my mother considered getting me surgery at 16. I was a bit slow in development. If it weren't for my father, she would have gone through with it, which is why she and I aren't close.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realize that the dress accentuates my figure more than I expected. The person who picked it out for me knew exactly what they were doing. With a smile on my face, my father finds me as he knocks on the door of my room.

"My girl, I would like... Wow, you look beautiful," he says, interrupting what he was going to say.

"Thanks, Daddy. What were you saying?" Upon hearing me, he remembers that he was telling me something. At his age, he's starting to forget some things. He's already 69 years old.

"Of course, my love. I'm sorry, you know my mind has been a little off lately. I need to talk to you before we go downstairs to the gathering," he says, taking my hand and setting aside the smile.

"You look so serious, you're scaring me," I say, sitting next to him on my bed.

"I organized this so you could meet your fiancé," he says calmly.

I let go of his hand upon hearing the crazy things he's saying. I stand up from his side and pace back and forth in my room. I don't even know what to say first, I don't really know what to say about anything.

"I understand that you're upset but let me explain. As you know, I'm at an age where I can't pretend, I'm not. My body is no longer fit to carry the company on my shoulders. You're still very young to do it. I don't want you to feel pressured to take on that responsibility. You just have to study and finish everything so that in a few years, you can take the reins of the family legacy," he says, trying to fix things between us.

"You've gone crazy! What fiancé are you talking about? I have no plans to get married or anything like that. You can forget about that idea," I say, pointing my index finger at his face.

"It will only be for three years, then everyone goes back to their lives before getting married," he explains, justifying everything with that.

"Three years? This must be a joke" I say running my hand through my hair.

"Just let me explain to you how things are, I'm sure you'll understand everything" he asks me to plead with his gaze.

"I don't think an explanation will make me change my mind about this" I reply taking a breath and sitting down in front of my father.

"Well, as you know I am thinking of retiring, you are just studying to be able to take care of everything, you are still too young. That's why I talked to my best friend, he agreed to make this business deal, where you get married with separate property with his son and after three years you get divorced, during those three years his son will take over the company and will teach you in practice when you finish your studies. When the time stipulated in the contract passes your son will return to his company and you will stay with ours. You wonder how he accepted this deal, well simple, he had economic difficulties and I have helped with that condition. Everything is spoken, his son knows, and he said yes, you are the only one missing".

He tells me putting a little pressure on my shoulders.

It's not fair that he's doing this to me. I thought he believed I was capable of taking over the company. Why the hell does he have to ask someone to marry me? I don't understand any of this.

"Why do we have to get married? We can sign a contract, but we don't necessarily have to get married," I say, searching for an answer to this madness.

"If you refuse to marry him, he will still take over the company, but you won't have any rights to it," he says to me seriously.

"What? Are you fucking me?" I exclaim, annoyed.

"It was an agreement we made many years ago. I never imagined it would come true, daughter. It's something beyond my control. If you don't get married, we will lose our company and everything," I look at him, searching for sanity in his expression.

"You can't just tell me something like this so calmly. I insist that this is a