Four
Athena
Two weeks later.
Fuck, I feel bloated.
I pull my jeans, suck in my stomach to button them up and pull the zipper. I look into the mirror, and I do look bloated.
Geeze, I’m gaining weight.
I walk to my closet, and I stop. I chew my lip, staring at the wedding dress that hangs in the closet, making my fate real. I stare at it and move my hand to my face, closing my mouth. The wedding dress smells, and it’s an odd smell that makes my stomach do cartwheels. Hell, my head throbs, and I feel totally off.
This guilt is killing me.
I can’t marry Roberto.
I shake my head and grab my boots. I pull them on and walk out of my room. I’m on a mission; I have to call the fucking wedding off.
My stomach is tied up in knots, and I take a few steps down the hall, stopping in front of my Dad’s office. I chew my lip and inhale, squaring my shoulders. I knock on the door and wait.
“Enter,” Dad says.
I open the white wood door and enter Dad's office. It is masculine, with dark wood furniture, taupe carpet, and drapes. The walls are dark gray, the view is beautiful, and he loves his office.
“Athena, I was just going to call you. Roberto has moved the wedding date. The wedding will be tomorrow, here at the house. He has everything planned; the wedding coordinator will be here early in the morning to prepare the wedding,” Dad says, raising his brow.
“Dad, why so fast? It’s supposed to be next week. How could you two change the dates without consulting with me,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.
“Athena, you will do as we see fit. We don’t need to consult you; I’m your Dad.”
“Dad, I’m not going to marry Roberto!”
My heart pounds so fast that I think it’s going to explode. I’m afraid and pissed off that I can’t think.
“Athena, you will marry Roberto; the man loves you. I told you that he’s backing my election, so don’t fuck this up,” Dad hisses, taking a step toward me.
Now I’m frightened. Will he hurt me?
I take a step back, wide-eyed, watching his every move.
Dad reaches for me and grabs my arm tight, pulling me close. His eyes are cold, and he smiles cruelly.
“Athena, you will marry Roberto. You will be ready in the morning like a good girl. Otherwise, I will kill you if you don’t. Remember what happened to your mother? She had an accident,” Dad utters through clenched teeth.
Oh, hell no!
Did he kill her?
“Dad, no worries, I’ll be ready. What time,” I ask, turning up my lips.
“That’s a good girl. The wedding will be at six, and don’t try to escape because we will find you,” Dad hums, releasing my arm.
“Okay. Night, Dad,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance. I can’t show him that I’m afraid of him.
It’s so damn painful to learn that Dad is a monster. He killed Mom.
I walk out of his office, tears rolling down my face. I blink quickly and wipe my cheeks. I walk to my room.
What am I going to do?
I have to marry Roberto, but my heart wants Thor. I should have tried to get his number or something. I don’t know where he lives.
I stare out the window at the crazy amount of people setting up for the wedding. The people are decorating the yard, setting up the tables, and bringing in food. It appears as if a lot of people were invited to the wedding. But my girls didn’t get invited.
I can’t believe this.
I’m so upset that I threw up my breakfast. I need to take a shower and get ready. I walk to the bathroom and take off my robe. I don’t even want to look in the mirror. I don’t want to see that I’m a fucking coward.
I take a shower and dry my hair because Roberto has someone who’s going to do my hair, makeup, and nails.
Geeze.
That man goes overboard.
A few hours later, I’m ready. I look into the mirror, and I hate the dress. Thank god I didn’t pick a puffy gown. It’s an A-line, fitted dress with a little flare.
I picked it out, but that was when I was another person, a silly girl in love with marrying a rich, handsome man. A girl in love with the wedding dress and the wedding. But deep in my heart, I wanted to get away from Dad.
God, I was so immature and stupid.
Thor changed me in so many ways, but for the better. I prayed so much and hard that I would see Thor again and that I would escape with him.
Now, my dreams are over.
The cruel reality is that I’m marrying Roberto.
At least he’s nice to me, right?
I need to talk to Dad and tell him that I don’t want to ever see him again after the wedding.
I walk out of my room, down the hall, and stop at his office door. The door is slightly open, and I can hear Dad and Roberto’s voice.
“Benson, you’re damn lucky that Athena agreed to marry me because that’s the only reason that I’m backing your campaign for Governor, even though you will be useful in so many ways. I need her to give me an heir, and after that, you might never see her again. I might sell her off or make her disappear,” Roberto says.
“I can’t care less; she’s not my daughter. My wife brought her home, claiming that her sister couldn’t take care of her, and we adopted her. I don’t care what you do with her,” Dad hums.
My chest hurts, and I can’t breathe. I turn and run the the hall. I pull the veil from my hair; my hair falls down my back. I run out of the house around the wedding planner vans. I run down the driveway and onto the street. I run until I’m out of breath. I look around and rub my face to clear the tears.
I’m so damn stupid!
Now what?
I should have changed and grabbed my purse, cell, and keys.
I’m in the neighborhood, but there should be a gas station a little further down. Maybe I can use their phone.
I walk down the street, praying that I don’t run into anyone. The people will think that I’m crazy walking around in a wedding dress. Geeze, this is like something from a movie or book.
This can’t be happening to me.
Hell, it is.
It’s my fault.
I should have been more controlled and thought clearly before running off without anything. But Dad’s words killed me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what Roberto said because I’m not going to marry him, but Dad said I’m not his daughter.
Then who in the hell am I?
I start running again in case they find out that I’m gone. I run to the gas station and into the store.
“Excuse me, could I please use your phone,” I say to the older man.
He stares at me and shakes his head.
“No phone. No phone,” He says, shaking his head.
Fuck!
I walk outside and not one car is there. This is fucked up. I walk to the side of the station near the bathrooms. I
Fuck this dress.
I pull at it, trying to tear the skirt to make it shorter, but no such luck. The damn dress is holding up well.