The Proposal

Vincent

‘What the heck did I agree to?!’ I internally yelled at myself as I walked out of the airport with my luggage.

My talk with Arya, in no way, ended the way I’d imagined. It, rather, took a whole new turn, spiraling me out of control.

I made a freaking promise! Was I high? Did she inject me with a brain jumbling drug? No! but I still agreed to marry her.

“He has just three months to live,” she’d said in bitter tears.

I wasn’t expecting that at all.

“I thought I could fool him by bringing any random guy and making him believe he was the one. I couldn’t fool the old man. He saw right through me, Vincent,” she’d said. “I pondered on how to fulfill my dad’s happiness, but I always came out short, not until I met you, Vincent.”

I’d been shocked, transfixed, brain dead when she said all that. Her dad dying was huge enough. The implications were enormous.

“Why is that? How many opinions has he gotten? How many doctors have confirmed this?” I asked, really concerned about her dad