RUNNING AWAY FROM MY BETROTHED

"Holly mother of workaholics!" I rest my heavy head on my chair after parking in my compound. If shit was a person, huh!

I would love to rest even just a bit more, but not here. As I step out of my car into the modest driveway of my humble abode, I let out a deep sigh. Did I say humble? Sigh! What an understatement!

For heaven's sake, let me say that I live up to the weight of my title as Riccaford. Riccarford is a household name that rings a bell in each and every soul in this whole country. We are one of the owners of this country. A name that goes down way back in time, in the times of our great ancestors. We are the gurus of money and power. I reek of wealth to the heavens, and I am not sorry to brag about it. I have both my entitlement and my sweat on this wealth. Yes, because I work my ass off from early morning until late at night beside my father to oversee the smooth and productive running of our businesses.

Oh, by the way, I am Ellie Marrie Riccaford. The one and only child of my father and late mother!

People think that, with this title, I am the luckiest soul in the world. I have it all. Well, I do money-wise. There is nothing in this world that money can buy that I can’t afford. I won’t even sweat over it. But is life all about money?

Bitter sigh!

Living lavishly and serving as my father's assistant as the head of the marketing department at his extensive hotel chain are the only benefits I get to enjoy as the person who has this title. Of course, this was far from my ideal profession, but I had no choice but to accede to my father's requests and demands since, as they say, who dared challenge Richard Riccaford? No one! No one dared, and I was just a naive kid who could not even look her daring father straight in the eye. His was to command, and mine was to obey, as an obedient child.

I have consistently complied with his requests, even when my mom was still living. Nothing has ever changed. Following commands is an obligation of being a Riccaford, and I think being the only child contributed much to my being this disadvantaged. Everything that my father sees as advantageous for him and his businesses is what you are required to do. And that too, without questioning his decisions. Whether I am okay with his choices or not, in the end, it’s his way that you will follow. My suggestions were never taken into consideration from the outset. I am the living shadow of my father. I am all that he wanted me to become. I am more of him than myself. I even forgot about having my own dreams along the way. What was the point? He is the remote of my life, pointing me in whatever direction he wants me to take.

And this sucks! So very much!

I have fulfilled all of his requests and obeyed all his damned orders, but the bomb that is set to go off tomorrow will jeopardize our relationship in ways over which I have no control. The picture of our lives tomorrow is so vague that I can’t even picture it!

Curious to know what I am ranting about?

Well, tomorrow marks my twentieth birthday. Birthdays, huh? They ought to be the days that I always go out of my way and have a taste of life outside of work. It has been the only day that I get to sample some enjoyment. Go out. Have fun. Shop like I am shopping for the entire world. Spoil my small circle of buddies like it’s our last day together. Yeah, I do all that, but not tomorrow.

Tomorrow is so different. And if only I could, I would halt time in its tracks. I would beg the sun to remain still. I would ask for one thing—to remain in this moment forever. If I could have just one wish at this precise moment, it would be to always live as the nineteen-year-old I am. To never face tomorrow. I would ask for time to stand still forever. Because tomorrow is the auspicious day when I am supposed to meet my betrothed—some shitty jerk that I don’t even know his name. But then, hell knows, there is no way I will trade my life and happiness for that. I have obliged enough! I have been ordered around enough. I have been a good daughter, and I will continue to be. But if this will label me differently, then so be it! I have had enough of being controlled like an object that does not have a mind of its own or a say in its life. I say that enough is enough. This time, I am daring to do what I have never even dreamed of doing—fight for my happiness and my rights. I have the right to choose who to marry. The person with whom I will spend my life should be my own choice.

I toss my life's sad tale to the side and begin stumbling inside. I'm worn out and drained. The weight of what awaits me tomorrow is not doing any justice to my tired self either. Before I read over the prose for my presentation for tomorrow's shareholder meetings, I might need to get some forty winks.

Yeah, yeah! I know. I need a good rest. good sleep. A vacation would do, given how tirelessly I have worked of late. But do I have time? Talk of workaholics!

I leap inside in excitement after realizing the door is not secured.

Sherry and Rose, two of my friends, told me they would see me tomorrow, of course, for the dreadful birthday celebration, as I had just spoken to them on the way here. As if I want to celebrate! Bitter sigh! Give me a break, please! I am passing on their invitation, but I just did not have the courage to turn them down physically. Hopefully, I will come up with a sweet, believable excuse by sunrise. Perhaps tell them that Leo offered to celebrate with me.

Speaking of Leo Theodore, my boyfriend, he is the only one with a spare key to this house. We have been dating for two years, and frankly, it's high time we settled down. He is all that I could possibly want in a man, and I am the apple of his eye. Well, I have been wanting to be married for almost four months, but he is scared of the same thing that scares me.

Tomorrow! Damned tomorrow! This cursed day!