The Forced Union

As the morning sun casts its gentle rays through the window, illuminating the room, Amelia slowly stirs from her slumber. With a determined glint in her eyes, she rises from the comfortable embrace of her bed, ready to tackle the day that lies ahead. First, she makes her way to the bathroom, grasping her toothbrush firmly and diligently scrubbing away any remnants of sleep. With each stroke, her pearly whites regain their sparkle, radiating a confidence that matches her spirit. After a refreshing shower, she emerges from the bathroom, her skin glowing and her spirit invigorated.

Next, she expertly applies makeup, enhancing her natural beauty with just a touch of elegance and accentuating her striking features. As she stands in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection, her phone chimes with a familiar tone. It is a call from her boyfriend, James. Amelia fumbles for her phone on the bedside stool as the shrill ringtone pierces through the tranquilly of the morning.

"Good morning, my love," Amelia greets James, her boyfriend of two years. She knows the routine by heart, playing the part of a devoted partner. Deep down, however, her heart has begun to yearn for something different.

"Morning, beautiful," James replies, his voice laced with genuine affection. It is the kind of greeting that once made Amelia's heart flutter. Now, it only reminds her of the love she has lost.

"Did you sleep well?" Amelia asks, her voice tinged with the remnants of a night filled with troubled dreams.

"Like a baby, thanks to you," James responds, his words brimming with adoration. But his words feel hollow to Amelia, echoing through the void in her own heart.

"Do you have any plans for the day?" she asks, attempting to sound genuinely interested.

"No, not really. Just the usual, I guess," James replies. His answer mirrors the monotony of their relationship-a perpetual cycle of predictability.

Amelia's mind drifts away from the conversation, thoughts of escape and liberation captivating her attention. She yearns for the courage to break free from the chains that bind her to a love that no longer resonates with her soul.

"I am thinking," Amelia begins cautiously, her voice trembling with the weight of her hidden truth. "Maybe we should take some time apart, you know, to figure things out."

A heavy pause fills the air, with anticipation and uncertainty dancing between the two lovers. Amelia holds her breath, her heart pounding, waiting for James to respond.

"I... I don't understand, Amelia," James stammers, his voice cracking with confusion. "Are you saying you want to break up?"

Amelia hesitates, the truth that has been buried within her for so long now bubbling to the surface. The moment she has both dreaded and longed for has arrived.

"Yes, James," she says, her voice steadier than she had imagined. "I think it's time for us to go our separate ways. We've grown apart, and it's not fair to either of us to continue pretending."

Silence hangs in the air, punctuated only by the distant sounds of traffic outside Amelia's window. In that quiet moment, the weight of their shared history and shattered dreams loomed heavily over both of them.

Finally, James's voice breaks the stillness, filled with a mix of resignation and sorrow. "I suppose I can't force you to stay, but... this hurts, Amelia. It really does."

Amelia feels a pang of guilt in her chest, knowing that her decision has caused pain for the person she once loved. But she also knows that staying in a loveless relationship would have been far more damaging in the long run.

"I'm sorry, James," she whispers, her voice tinged with regret. "But we both deserve to find happiness, even if it's apart."

As they hang up the phone, Amelia can't help but feel a sense of liberation mixed with sadness. The morning light now holds the promise of a new beginning, a chance for her to rediscover herself and chase the happiness that has eluded her for far too long.

Amelia's mind wanders briefly to her past, her family, and the hardships she has endured. Growing up in a poor neighbourhood, her family struggles to make ends meet. She is the oldest of four siblings and is constantly wrangling her mischievous brothers and sisters, their laughter echoing through their modest home. Her father, plagued by a gambling addiction, passed away when she was just a teenager, leaving behind a legacy of debt and broken dreams.

With a final glance in the mirror, Amelia reaffirms her determination. Today is not just an interview; it is a chance to transcend her past and prove that beauty and resilience can coexist. And as she steps out into the world, her head held high, Amelia knows that she is ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, armed with her indomitable spirit and the beauty that radiates from within.

***********

The uncontrollable trembling of my leg, which is beautifully folded across my lower knee and exposed by a snug business skirt, does not help. Cell phones ring, and the fleeting sound of the lift door opening breaks up the sound of a swarm of women's heels rattling on the endless marble floor. Even breathing causes my chest to rip open like a razor.

With the fingers of my left hand, I quickly straighten the strands of hair, which are already neatly and firmly behind my ear, and straighten the folds on my skirt. My gaze quickly flies over the face of the secretary, who lowers the phone, nods her head affirmatively, and shoots us a look.

She pulls on her fake smile, masked by a vivid red lipstick, when our eyes meet.

"Amelia Baldwin, you can come in now."

I reciprocate with an equally fake smile, which covers my tension and sleepless nights.

''Thank you.''

I walk past her and continue towards the massive wooden door, the walls claustrophobically narrowing around me.

This is my last chance for redemption. To atone for the sins of others. A ticket to my freedom. I knock three times, and the echo bursts through the hallway as a deep male voice rings out.

''Come in.''

I take a big breath and stick my head through the huge door. I also straighten my body. I shouldn't be displaying my vulnerabilities right now.

"Hello, I just wanted to say thank you for returning my call and allowing me to come into your office."

My chest moves quickly and regularly as I speak, nearly expressing how important this is to me despite the seeming nervousness in my voice.

He looks at me penetratingly, not taking his eyes off mine, as if reading my thoughts and studying every cell in my body.

"Have your seat, Miss Amelia."

"I must tell you, Miss Amelia, that I am normally immune to begging, but your persistence and the way you have written to me in the hope of a job have somehow caught my attention."

A trapped breath that I am not even aware I had leaves my throat the moment I hear his words. Is it called relief?

I'm willing to give you a chance despite the fact that you have no prior experience in this line of work because I don't know what motivates you or what makes you so eager to work for our company.

It appears as though a thousand suns are blazing on my dismal sky full of black, thick clouds as an honest smile breaks through my tight face.

"Thank you for the opportunity; I promise, you won't regret it."

He grins and leans heavily back in his enormous chair, which squeaks from his weight. He makes a thin, straight motion with his mouth, as though weighing something in his mind.

"I sincerely hope you mean what you say. You'll begin working on Monday. My secretary, Victoria, will tour you around the workplace in the morning. You will therefore be responsible for organising the materials for all of my meetings, as well as accompanying me to them, taking notes, and finishing the other chores I assign to you. Is everything understood?"

I nod, not taking the silly smile off my face. My face seems to stiffen, and if I want to, I can't change its expression. I'm entering an unknown realm, but I'm sure I'll manage. I have to manage.

"Everything is clear, sir. Thanks again for the opportunity."

He nods in agreement and extends his hand. We shake hands and thus put a stamp and signature on our agreement. I get the job. Yes, something is finally getting better.

I get up and leave the room with a triumphant walk. As I walk past Victoria, the secretary with the fake smile, I pause when her high-frequency tone nearly pierces my eardrums.

''Miss Amelia, see you tomorrow at exactly 8 a.m. I welcome you on behalf of the company."

The words come out of her mouth gravely: It would be obvious to a small child that she is not happy to look at me every day. She looks at me from head to toe, arching her eyebrow in surprise.

''The pleasure is mine.''

I say this and head for the elevator. I push a button, and the door opens, revealing platinum walls. The elevator doors open and close, receiving and escorting a crowd of people from floor to floor.

For the first time lately, I feel some hope and relief. There is hope for me to get out of this hell. After a long time, my body is relaxed and feels like jelly. The ringing sound of the elevator door opening and the signal that we are on the ground floor jerk me out of my trance, and without looking ahead, I hurry to get out.

As I step out of the office, oblivious to the presence of the man standing in my path, I collide with an unexpected force, sending the papers he is holding soaring into the air like a sudden burst of confetti.

As the paper cloud descends, totally covering the marble floor below us, an angry face appears in front of me, distorted with rage.

Beneath the deep frown on his face, provoked by rage, I am drawn to the enchanting blue eyes that mesmerize me with their depth. His black, styled hair blends with his suit, and his sharp features scream masculinity.

Somehow I manage to get out of the trance into which his gaze throws me, and just when I want to apologize and collect the papers that have been blown up, the thunderous noise caused by his voice cuts me off.

"Look what you did."

I wrinkle my whole face in amazement, didn't we bump into each other?! I certainly wouldn't run into him on purpose, for God's sake.

''Pardon me?''

He comes dangerously close to me, looking me deeply in the eyes, cutting the places where his gaze passes like a razor. The tips of our noses almost touch and his mint breath opens my eyelids even wider.

"You will immediately bend down and pick up these papers."

He looks at me darkly, squinting his eyes at me. Then says in a low, threatening voice.

''Immediately.''

I laugh in wonder. What does he think he is?

"With this attitude, I don't want to, and I won't."

I reply him, attempting to avoid being sucked into his funnel by the might of his enraged, azure heavens. His firm hold pulls me back as I try to pass past him while trying to escape. My back is violently slammed against his powerful stomach muscles by his strength.

His breath plays around my bare neck, instilling in me a mixed feeling of latent fear and some strange passion.

"You don't want to play with fire, lady."

I turn my head to the side so that I am looking him straight in the eyes under the slope.

"For people like you, I'll be an arsonist if I have to."

I storm out of the building, my heart pounding with a strange mixture of defiance and excitement.