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A Bride To Be

“Catalina!!” I hear my best friend Anna call out my name for God knows how long ,we are watching the news ,there was another shooting today downtown, the news is always depressing to watch nowadays, always one shooting or the other, I practically zoned off.

it’s my 4 year anniversary with Christian Montero tomorrow and judging from the call we had 2 hours ago , he said he is going to propose to me and he hopes I say yes, and then he ends the call, i am supposed to be going insane with so much happiness,

I mean, I am getting proposed to by one of the most eligible bachelors in manhattan or dare I say, one of the most eligible bachelors in the world ,he is the sole heir to “TECH M” the best tech company on the planet with a net worth of over trillion of dollars,

so why the hell am I not jumping up with excitement? I have known Christian for 4 years now, we met at a tech gala I was attending in place of my father, Sebastian Brooks, married to Natalia Brooks my mother,

My Dads company, “EMZA” deals with the production of drugs and medical gadgets. My father has his own fair of wealth but nothing compared to the Montero’s.

I and Christian hit it off immediately, we talked about the company, and how I just finished university with a bachelor’s degree in economics and majored in business, while he graduated a few years before me and he was 25 years of age when we first met,

Christian is absolutely divine, he is 6 Ft. tall, brown hair always neatly arranged, I don’t think I have ever seen Christian have a bad hair day actually, blue eyes, and a really nice fitted body,

, it was really alluring for like the first two months of the relationship, with the whole thrill of dating a multi billionaire and all, within that two months I realized he is a very proud, self-centered human, and really terrible at making love, I got seriously bored and lost any atom of feelings I ever had,

 Why did I not leave the relationship you might ask? I felt like it would get better, I just needed to put in a little effort and with time I could change him, and besides my family is extremely happy about this relationship,

Wherever I go, I am treated with so much respect immediately they realize I’m the girlfriend to Christian MONTERO, 

I guess I chose greed, fame and power over my personal happiness, call me stupid but I know most people would have made the exact same choice if in my shoes.

  

  Anna looks at me with those sad eyes like she knew exactly what I was thinking, of course she knew everything, we both knew each other so damn well, we’ve been friends since high school. 

I stand up heading towards the bathroom because somehow I felt dizzy all of a sudden and felt the need to throw up, as soon as I am done spilling my guts, I sit down and begin to cry,

“it’s going to be okay”, these are the words she keeps telling me ,but I know it’s the end for me,

“ how is any of this going to be okay Anna? I’m about to marry someone I don’t have feelings for, all because I ought to or because its comfortable, I know I got myself into this but getting out is somehow not an option, I kept telling myself things would change I should have patience, a year turned into two then into three now it’s been four years and I’m about to be engaged, I’m in too deep, feeling so damn pathetic,”

anyone listening to me right at this moment would think of me as an ungrateful bitch but call me all you want I still feel like I deserve better and Anna gets that and i am so thankful to her.

I am done being a cry baby, after lots of pep talk and alcohol I decide to accept it for what it is , I just need to accept that this is what my life is going to be like.

I begin to blast my favorite music, dancing and singing to my song, Anna has a really creepy taste when it comes to music, so as usual she goes upstairs to take a nap as she finds my taste of music weird, I continue to dance and scream till my body wears out,

I lay down, turn off the music as I quietly allow the alcohol do its thing my eyes beginning to feel heavy as I quietly drift off to sleep.

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