The Runaway Wife

My name is Paige Harper, and I'm 21 years old. My parents own one of the bigger construction companies in London.

I'm an only child, much to my father's dismay, who always wanted a son. According to him, "women are meant to stay at home." I've been trying for years to make him understand that times have changed and that I am capable of looking after the company and making it grow much more than he has. However, he doesn't believe me and is determined to marry me off to secure the future of the company.

Needless to say, I don't agree with getting married, especially not to someone I don't know. The worst part is that if I refuse, I won't be able to continue studying the remaining year and a half of business administration since my father will kick me out if I don't marry the man, he found for me.

What kind of man agrees to marry for money? Surely none who is a good and honest person.

Tonight, I have an important dinner, which my father, as always, organized without informing me. He says there's no need to inform me since I don't do anything all day. I'm so tired of living with them that if I could, I would leave. Unfortunately, my parents are elderly, and anyone interested can take advantage of them just to gain access to the company. I only look after their interests so that they have a good life.

My father is about to retire, with only two years left. After that, he will travel with my mother. If you're wondering how, it's possible for my parents to be so old when I'm only 21, well, as I mentioned before, I'm an only child. They spent years trying to become parents, trying various methods, and eventually resorted to surrogacy. It's a bit crazy, I couldn't imagine giving away a child that grew inside me. When I was born, they took care of me from the very first minute of my life.

I never knew who the person was that carried me in their womb for months, but it didn't really matter to me, just as it didn't matter to them. My mother was already over 40 years old when I was born, and my father was nearly 50.

My childhood was beautiful; they indulged me in all my whims. Although I must admit, I'm not very materialistic. For me, the value lies in the time given to me, the time dedicated solely to me. That holds more value for me than the most expensive car in the world. Luckily, my father always made time for me, even though he worked until the weekends. He always finds time to talk or have a coffee with me. I say "he still does" because he continues to make time for me.

My mother is more into knitting; when we have our coffees, she doesn't interrupt those father-daughter moments.

She is more into reading and knitting, in addition to taking care of her baby, a little dog that looks like a toy, or rather, a fluffy stuffed animal. Sometimes I'm afraid of stepping on her. She is small and very attached to my mom. Wherever my mother is, the dog, whose name is Sofia, is there too. I insisted that Sofia is not a suitable name for a dog, but her response was, "Even better, Sofia is like a daughter to me, not just a dog that can have a vulgar pet name." After hearing her say that I preferred to remain silent.

Arguing about the name of her pet was silly and a waste of time. In the end, I nodded, conceding the point, even though I know she's wrong.

As for my mother, what matters most to her is what people will say, how you present yourself at an important gathering, always looking good, with makeup, a styled hairdo, and, above all, maintaining a figure that others envy so that your husband won't look at other women. Ugh, what can I say about that? I don't share the same view, and she knows it. The only time she said that to me, I shared my perspective, and when she learned my way of thinking, she didn't speak to me for two months.

What's wrong with believing that if a man, who is supposedly your husband, looks at another woman, it's best to end the marriage and go your separate ways? I don't mean that just looking is a problem, because obviously, we all look. The issue is if they cheat on you; that's a different story. I wouldn't be able to forgive infidelity; I could never live with someone who has been or is capable of being with another woman. Loyalty is important to me; it's something I don't compromise on.

Tired of my mother's glances, I take a bath before going to the hair salon. There's no point in arguing about this topic. It's always her way that prevails. She allowed me to get my hair styled and wear makeup, although the girl in charge knows that I prefer a natural look, nothing too vibrant or exaggerated. The gathering is a formal dinner, so I have the dress waiting for me in my room. If you're wondering where I am, well, I'm in a room that the makeup artist exclusively uses for that purpose. That's how pretentious my mother is. I remember as if it were yesterday when I longed to be like her. I was around 5 years old, dreaming of wearing makeup and being at dinners with my parents. If only my parents' friends were less hypocritical, attending wouldn't be such a torment. But those people are on the fast track to hell. It's stupid to put on a smile when everyone who will be there is only interested in buying their company and making money. However, I won't let that happen.

Now that I'm ready, according to my mother, I finally go to get dressed. My dress is simple yet elegant, a perfect blend of sophistication and allure. Physically, I would say I'm fairly average. I don't have a model's body since I have excess fat in my legs and rear. As for my upper body, I have a bust, but nothing exaggerated. When they weren't growing, my mother considered getting me surgery at 16. I was a bit slow in development. If it weren't for my father, she would have gone through with it, which is why she and I aren't close.