Prologue
prologue
AVA
My parents have never been the most loving, but I never believed they could be so unfeeling. I stare at the two of them, stunned and unable to form a coherent thought, let alone words.
My mother sits on the couch in the formal sitting room—don’t even get me started on how ridiculous it is that we have a formal sitting room while living in our small town of Harborview, Massachusetts—an air of conceit surrounding her.
My father stands behind her, a tumbler of scotch in one hand and his other resting on the back of the couch, a stern look on his face. One that would normally have me agreeing to whatever they want me to do.
“I will not marry that man. No way in hell, and the fact that you are asking me that after what I just told you…” I shake my head, unsure how to finish that statement. My heart breaks thinking about what they are asking of me.
I’ve always known that my parents cared about appearances. It’s why they were so upset when my brother Declan got a divorce. But they seemed to come to terms with that, and I thought, when it came down to it, they cared more about our happiness than anything else.
Now, I know exactly how Declan felt before he left this town and moved to Ashford Falls, Maryland. While I don't think what my parents are asking of me is quite the same as what they did to him, I am left wondering how I can face them after today. Especially if they truly expect this from me—how am I supposed to continue living in this town, pretending we are some happy family when that's the furthest thing from the truth?
“I’m done.” I turn away from them, knowing there is no hope I’ll change their minds. I need to get out of this house, away from them and this life they’ve so carefully constructed for me—a life I thought I had been choosing for myself this entire time.
My father’s voice booms from behind me. “Ava Margaret Day, you will not walk out of this house without having a civilized conversation with your mother and me.”
My father’s words stop me in my tracks. “A civilized conversation? You call this civilized?” I turn to them, “We live in the twenty-first century, and you are talking to me about an arranged marriage. To a man who tried to force himself on me.”
“Oh, Ava. Don’t be so dramatic.” My mother scoffs, utterly unbothered by everything. She and my father exchange a look, communicating something silently before turning back to me. “Brian comes from a good family. There’s no way he’s acted even remotely like you described.”
I stare at her, trying to figure out how she became this way. I can’t remember ever feeling unsafe in my parent's presence. They’d always pushed me to “do more” and “be better,” but never to the point that I questioned my safety and well-being.
“Dramatic?” I ask, my voice going flat. I was angry before—furious, really. But now, I feel numb. “How the fuck am I being dramatic? He?—”
“Ava,” my mother interrupts, “I taught you better than that. We don’t use that kind of language in this house.”
“Who are you?” I don’t mean for that question to come out, but I don’t recognize this woman before me.
“Ava, that’s no way to talk to your mother.” My father moves around the couch, finally sitting beside her.
“His assistant said nothing inappropriate was happening in that office. She said—from what she could see when she walked in—you were the one coming onto Brian, not the other way around.” My mother looks at me in pure disgust.
My first instinct is to run to my room and hide like I’ve done something wrong, but I know I haven’t done a single thing to warrant any of this. Unless it was work-related, I never even spoke to Brian. We may have worked in the same firm, but he was a criminal defense attorney while I was in family law. We rarely had the same cases or clients.
“Of course she did! She can’t afford to lose her job!” I shout, turning my back on them.
Are they so far removed from the real world they don’t know what it means to need a job? I know I’ve lived a privileged life. Being born into one of the founding families of this small town afforded me so much, on top of having parents who were very successful in their careers. But I’ve always worked for everything I’ve wanted. It wasn’t something my parents required, but I saw what they did to my brother when he accepted any kind of assistance from them. It was always held over his head like there was some quid pro quo to all of it, and I didn’t want that for myself. So, I avoided taking anything from my parents—unless I truly needed it. The only big thing I’d accepted from them was their help paying for school.
“Ava. This is important to your mother and me. I don’t know what happened between you and Brian, but I know it couldn’t have been as bad as you are making it out to be.” I hear the exasperation in my father’s voice, and I want to be hurt by it, but this whole conversation has drained me. I’m too exhausted to feel much of anything.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m an adult now or something else, but my parents have never been so hardheaded—so inconsiderate of my feelings. Maybe the issue is that I always go along with what they want, no questions asked. This is the first time I’ve pushed back on something they’ve asked of me.
I played the sports they wanted me to play, and I did the extracurricular activities they required of me. I studied pre-law in undergrad and graduated from law school at the top of my class. And most recently, I’d gotten the job at the big fancy law firm like they pushed me toward. But this? Telling me—not asking me—to marry Brian Wellsely, a man who couldn’t take no for an answer, was just too far.
I turn back to my parents, both of them now sitting on the couch together. “I don’t know how to make you understand me, but there is nothing you can say or do to get me to marry that man.”
“Ava, you don’t have a choice. Everything has already been decided. The contracts are signed.” My father sounds like he’s discussing any other business deal, not selling his daughter to the highest bidder.
“You can’t be serious. You can’t legally force me to marry this man. At the very least, I have to sign the marriage certificate, and I can promise you, I will never do that.” I stare at them for another minute before I turn and walk away. This time, when my father calls after me, I ignore him.