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Narrated by Helen.
There I was, on my way to marry a man in a wheelchair whom I didn't know, a man I detested for practically forcing me into this marriage; a man who was several years older than me and was forcing me to be forever tied to a paralytic.
Yes, as I mentioned before, a paralytic. And it's not that I'm a bad person who sees such individuals as lesser beings, quite the opposite; I admired them for overcoming their difficulties. But this Dylan Mayora was the cruelest man in the world.
My name is Helen Fonseca, daughter of a middle-class family. My father, Arturo Fonseca, an alcoholic man full of evil, had made life impossible for my mother and me since I can remember.
My mother's name is Andrea Palacios; she is a humble woman with a noble heart, a sweet woman for whom I would give my life if necessary.
But let me start from the beginning. I had just turned eighteen, and I was being forced to marry the CEO of the world's most important automotive company. My father was about to lose the house, drowning in debt because of his alcoholism. Due to this, his boss had made him sign a two-year marriage contract, so in exchange for saving our house and paying off his debts, I had to marry him. All because he needed a wife who would be willing to marry a paraplegic. And so, my father, being an employee of the monster Dylan Mayora, came up with the idea of giving away his own daughter in exchange for saving the mortgage and paying off his countless debts.
And there I was, the stupid girl who would do anything to see her family happy, even though my father didn't deserve it. But truth be told, I was doing it for my beautiful mother, who had been sick lately and needed a kidney transplant, and we couldn't afford it financially.
My mother tried to convince me to go far away, to be happy, to escape. She said that all she cared about was my happiness, the happiness of her only precious daughter. However, the mere thought of leaving my mother alone with that beast of a father made any doubt of getting married disappear from my mind.
"Dad, please! Don't do this to me! I promise to work extra hours, I'll quit studying, and we'll get the house back. I'll also find a way to get the transplant for Mom. We can even donate mine. Please, father, don't force me to marry that wheelchair-bound monster..."I was crying to my father on my knees, begging him to understand that please there were other ways.
“Shut up, Helen. Don't be selfish and think a little more about your mother. You'll thank me later, stupid. See that anyone would like to be in your place” he grabbed my strong hair while she spoke to me.
I was afraid of my father. That man, when he got angry, could hit anyone, so I stayed silent for the simple reason that I didn't want him to take it out on my poor mother later.
Minutes later I cleaned my makeup and adjusted my dress, to go out to the car that was waiting for me outside, to take me to my destination.
I hated Dylan Mayora, I hated him for asking my father that I be his wife, that he would give me up to him to condemn me to live with a twenty-seven-year-old man, when I was barely eighteen. And it wasn't that I knew him because I had never seen him in a magazine or had been introduced to him, since he was always studying and the little time that he didn't he was working to help with my mom's medicines, but I could imagine it. Many people feared him, for being a harsh man with a strong temperament. There were even people who said that he was a murderer who had killed his wife and his son, a few years ago; but I did not investigate much on the subject.
As soon as I got to the church, my legs were shaking. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want to embarrass my family, so I swallowed every single one of my tears. It was horrible what he was feeling. I wanted to live a full life, enjoy my youth at the university, go to a party or a disco for the first time, but I never thought that I should marry a decrepit old man and more in a wheelchair. That man was practically stealing my youth, stealing everything he dreamed of everything he wanted and what he had, which even if it wasn't enough, I appreciated it.
The wedding march was heard, and although it was not what I dreamed of, I wanted to observe everything around me; there were journalists and extremely unknown faces, I felt overwhelmed by so many things that I was experiencing, but even more, disappointed in my father.
My mother was in one of the chairs in front; her skin was so pale that she made me sad to look at her. She couldn't help but cry in pain, although many thought she was crying out of happiness because her daughter was marrying the man, she "loved".
I lifted my face and walked straight towards my destination, in the distance I could see a bearded man sitting in his wheelchair, his gaze was cold and intimidating, without any kind of expression. I swallowed thick with fear as my father handed me into his arms.
My father didn't say anything to him, he just nodded his head and the man looked at me and then turned to the father who was looking at us with joy, insinuating that he was having a wedding incited by love.
It's just… Shit! Could no one notice that I was dying while I was alive?
I turned my face without looking at my future husband to listen to the father who had started with the charlatanism that everyone says before him; I now pronounce you spouses.
"Mr. Dylan Mayora, do you accept Miss Helen Fonseca as your wife, to love and respect her in wealth, in poverty, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" asked the father.
I wanted the idiot to reconsider and realize that he was killing me while I was alive, that he was stealing my best years, that he was doing something to me that should never be done to a person: taking away their freedom.
"Yes, I accept" he answered without hesitation.
"And you, Miss Helen Fonseca, do you accept Mr. Dylan Mayora to love and respect him, in riches, in poverty, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
That phrase, “till death do us part” echoed in my head. And the room became silent when he realized that he did not respond. It was there that I looked at him squarely.
He was quite an attractive man. His long eyelashes made him look younger than he was, his lips were thick and quite pink, but his gaze, his gaze radiated terror.
"Aren't you going to answer?" she muttered in a harsh tone.
I looked at the father and threw away the words that would determine my destiny from that moment on.
"Yes, I accept".
“I declare you: husband and wife…”
The man didn't let the father finish, he signed some papers and threw them at me to grab his wheelchair and leave.
People started gossiping among themselves, while I felt like a fool. That man had humiliated her, so I had no choice but to leave as well.
I came home to my parents and changed my clothes. My mother packed my bags while she cried over what was happening.
"Don't cry mommy" I hugged her tight.
"Forgive me my girl, forgive me for not defending you from your father" she sobbed.
I put my forehead together with hers and kissed her on the lips as I did when I was little.
“I promise to come back for you mommy, I promise that I will separate you from my father's animal, just stay alive, okay? I do everything for your health, I loved you so much, old woman” she cried with a sharp pain in my chest. And it is that she had never separated me from my pretty old lady.
Seconds later I took my bags and left my house, without saying goodbye to my father. I didn't even want to look him in the face, the very idiot was sitting down, drinking in the living room chair, celebrating that he had finally gotten rid of me.
A black limousine was waiting for me in the street. An older man climbed out of it and opened the door for me to come inside.
"Leave that suitcase in the garbage can, miss, it's the lord's orders," the old man told me.
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