The Unwanted Marriage: Dion and Faye’s Story (The Windsors)

The Unwanted Marriage: Chapter 3



“What happened?” Eric asks, his voice laced with concern. He reaches for my hand over the table and entwines our fingers before gently pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this upset, Faye.”

My eyes widen, and he smiles at me so tenderly that my aching heart skips a beat. I’m so used to being invisible, even in plain sight, that his observations catch me off-guard. My family only sees what they want to, and they’ve always been blind to my pain. Or maybe they’ve just grown so accustomed to it that it no longer registers.

For a moment, I wonder what might happen if I told Eric the truth. Would he run away with me? Would he protect me? Or would he be horrified if I told him I’m technically, albeit unwillingly, engaged?

“I’m just worried about my next concert,” I murmur, unsure of what else to say. Telling him the truth would taint everything we had. “I’m considering playing something I composed,” I add, indulging in the fantasy I’ve created. My father would never allow me to play something I wrote myself. The few times he caught me practicing a piece I’d composed, he’d reprimanded me severely, leaving me incapable of playing for days.

Yet somehow, right here, right now, I want to pretend. This entire charade will come to an end the moment I break up with Eric, but for a few more hours, I want to keep pretending that I truly am everything he thinks I am.

When I’m with him, I get to be the person I wish I was every second of every day. Maybe in a different life, the rest of our story wouldn’t remain unwritten. In a different life, he could’ve been the one I’d get to marry, the one I’d get to grow old with.

I glance around the quiet coffeeshop — the same one we first met at all those months ago. He’d spend his lunch breaks here, sitting at the table opposite mine as I studied. The two of us would steal looks at each other, day after day, until he finally gathered the courage to ask if he could sit with me.

I never meant to fall for him. This was never supposed to be more than friendship, but I can’t bring myself to regret us. I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to follow my heart, even if it’s only for a little while. Eric is the only thing I’ve ever dared want for myself, the only choice I got to make. He’s my only glimmer of happiness in a world that seeks to drown me in despair. He’ll never know how much these few months with him meant to me. Having to end our relationship today fills me with a foreign despair — it feels like losing hope.

“I’d say that I’d buy a ticket to come see you, but I know you won’t let me.” He pauses then, smiling. He’s never asked more of me than I can give, accepting every one of my excuses each time he wanted something I couldn’t commit to. I always wondered why. Does a small part of him know that this thing between us can’t last? “So instead, will you please have lunch with me? Today is our six-month anniversary, you know? I’d like to take you on a proper date for once. Will you let me?”

I tense, surprised that he’d remember something like that. It isn’t even a true anniversary — today simply marks six months from the day he and I started sharing this little table. It hurts to know that I’ll never see him look at me that way again.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask, giving in. Just one more memory. One day of not having to tell him no. That’s all I want. When this day ends, I’ll go back to playing the role my father wrote for me. I’ll do everything that’s expected of me, but this… this is what I want in return. One date with a man who cherishes me. Just one.

Eric smiles, a hint of surprise mingling with his blatant excitement. He truly didn’t expect me to say yes. “Let me take you to The Lacara,” he says, his words rushed.

My stomach drops, and my entire body instantly freezes. Did he say The Lacara?

He pauses, misinterpreting the shock I fail to hide. Eric shakes his head and smiles as he squeezes my hand. “They have a Michelin starred restaurant,” he explains. “Though I’ll gladly get a room if you’d like one.”

I force a smile despite the wild beating of my heart and avert my gaze. The Windsors own multiple hotels, and I doubt they’re ever personally present at any of them. What are the odds of running into one of the Windsor siblings at The Lacara? Probably slim to none. Logically, I know that, yet somehow, Eric’s choice feels ominous. It feels like a reminder that I can’t escape Dion, not even in these final moments with Eric. “I’d love that,” I say nonetheless, desperate for just a few more choices of my own.

His brows rise, and he throws me a mischievous look. “The restaurant or the room?” he asks, grinning.

“Both, if you’re lucky.” I’d meant it as a joke, but the way his eyes darken makes my stomach flutter. Doing something like that… it’d never even occurred to me.

Could I really sleep with him? I won’t ever see Eric again after today — I can’t risk it with Dion moving back soon, but at least I’d have a memory to carry me through the years to come. It’d be the last choice I get to make, and the thought of giving him something that Dion likely thinks he’s entitled to fills me with satisfaction.

My thoughts are still reeling by the time we walk into the hotel lobby. I can’t even fully appreciate the splendor of The Lacara, because with every step I take, I second-guess myself more.

The hotel’s expansiveness makes me nervous, and I suddenly realize how crazy this is. I’m not the kind of person that gets to chase moments of happiness, and I’m terrified. I’m scared of hurting Eric, of having to face the consequences of my actions, of the future I’ll have to embrace after today. I’m scared, and I’m tired of feeling that way.

Eric grabs my hand, and I force myself to calm down, to enjoy this last date with him. Dion has taken so much from me already, but these last few hours are mine. This might well be the last bit of freedom I’ll ever have. I can’t spend my last seconds gripped by fear.

Eric pulls my chair out for me and shoots me a worried look, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure I could explain myself if I tried — not without ruining everything.

“I’m nervous too,” he says, misinterpreting my silence. “Somehow, this feels a little like a first date, doesn’t it?” I nod, and he reaches for my hand over the table. “I suppose in some ways, it is. I always said I’d be patient with you and that you’re worth the wait, but I feel like you may have taken those words a little too seriously,” he adds, his tone playful. “Six months before you let me take you out on a real date? It’ll be years before we’re married.”

My smile wavers, and I look down, unable to take the hope interlaced with flirtatiousness in his gaze. Marriage isn’t in the cards for us, and I don’t know how to tell him that. How do I tell him that this is where our story ends?

He entwines our fingers, and I look into his eyes, committing the affection in them to memory. I suppress the wave of helplessness I feel and force a smile.

“You like fish, don’t you?” he asks, pointing to a really overpriced dish on the menu. He’ll undoubtedly want to pay, and I can’t let him treat me to something like that, not when I know I’ll never get to repay him.

He sighs when I shake my head and takes the menu out of my hands. “Let me order for the both of us. Let me surprise you with something I think you’ll love.”

For a moment, I feel like arguing with him. Every fiber of my being wants to tell him I can make my own decisions, but I hold back, knowing that he isn’t my father. He isn’t trying to oppress me… he’s just trying to impress me. Today might well be the last time a man shows me any consideration at all. I’d be a fool to waste a moment like this.

My gaze roams over Eric’s face — his short blonde hair, his brown eyes, and the way he smiles at me. No one has ever looked at me the way he does, like he’s truly seeing me. My gaze settles on his lips, and a sharp pang of longing rushes through me. I’ll never get to kiss him again. I’ll never get to be with someone who chose to be with me, who truly wants me.

“How much does a room here cost?” I ask, the words leaving my lips before the thought has truly formed, before the consequences tied to them catch up to me.

Eric sits up straighter and tugs on the collar of his shirt. “Not that much,” he says, grinning nervously.

I smile back at him, knowing he’s lying. All the Windsor hotels are five-star. I could never afford to stay at any of them. I suppose for a lawyer like Eric, it isn’t quite as out of reach.

His eyes roam over my body, resting on my chest for a moment before he looks away. “I’m sure we can get dinner served in our room,” he says, swallowing hard.

Knowing that he’s just as nervous as I am oddly puts me at ease. He treats me with such care. Dion would never be this patient, this sweet. He’ll take what he thinks I owe him, with no care for my feelings. That’s what it’s always been like. Whenever Dion is forced to interact with me, he does the bare minimum with no consideration of my thoughts or feelings, like he can’t stand to be around me for a second longer than he has to.

I nod, suddenly sure of what I want. For years, my father carefully guarded me, keeping me from so much as befriending guys, scared I’d do something that would give Dion an excuse to break our engagement. This is my last chance to do things on my own terms. I’ll be forced into marriage with a man who more often than not forgets I even exist, but this will be my choice. My virginity will be mine to give.


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