Chapter 9

LAVENDER'S POV

From Mum to my supposed soon-to-be husband's voice, I heard them both, but I chose not to answer. They should do their worst if they want to, but I was not planning on leaving this room. The same way he came, he should leave in that same manner.

I did not want to see his face. He was a monster that wanted to take me away from all I knew just because of a single act of kindness he did for me. There are other ways to repay him that did not involve me marrying him.

Or was that why he helped? To get married to me and since he knew Mum was scared of him she would oblige. I asked myself so many questions while I heard every word they uttered. They were not going to convince me to leave this room.

Some of their words almost made me yell, but I chose to restrain myself. I was not going to give them the privilege of hearing me scream at them. I relayed my mind to Mum, and that was it. There was nothing more to discuss.

I heard him threaten to push the door down, but I called it bluff. “He would not d-”

I was not able to say the words in full when I heard the door fall off its hinges. It caught me off guard. I rushed out of my bed, yelling at him, but he quickly carried me. I pounded my hands on his chest and arm, trying to get him to drop me, but he was relentless.

“Let go of me,” I yelled, hitting him, but he walked calmly to the living room as though I was only just a little child throwing a tantrum. Once we got down the stairs, he placed me gently on the couch, and I frowned at him.

“Never do that again,” I warned him.

“I would not have if you came down on your own,” he told me, which made me scoff at him.

“Maybe you should have gotten that as your clue to leave me alone,” I got up, ready to go back to my room.

He held my hand, stopping me. “Let go,” I instructed, firmly.

I could feel the strange aura of this man. It was intimidating and it screamed strength and power, but I was not ready to let that stop me from what I know is right. He could not force me to leave with him. “I will once you promise to listen to what I have to say,” he told me.

“Is that the same way you got to make my mother sell me off?” I scoffed at him.

“No, but please listen to me,” he said.

I stared at him for a couple of minutes, contemplating if I should trust him or not. Out of curiosity, I nodded, granting him access to speak to me on whatever he wanted to. “Fine,” I said.

“Sit, please,” he gently instructed while he let go of my hand.

I did as he asked, and he began, crouching down before me. “I know you think it was just yesterday we made this agreement, but it isn’t. Your mother needed my help some years ago, and as a way of appreciation, she betrothed you to me. She told me once you are of age, you will get married to me. I know she did not inform you before now, and I believe it would have been better if she did, but she did not.”

I listened attentively to what he said and did not try to say a word. “I know you do not trust me, but think of me saving you as an example of how I would take care of you and would not allow any harm to come to you. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but I cannot stay without a wife any longer, and so you will have to come with me. If there was time, I would have let you stay, but I cannot.”

He went on. “I promise not to harm you so long as you comply with all that you need to. No one will harm you so long as you are with me,” he was trying to reassure me.

Even though he was calm, it still did not change the fact that I was used as an exchange tool for what he did for my mother, and I still found it to be unfair to me. No one should have made that decision for me except myself.

“Harming you is not my intention. Your mother needed protection, and usually, this agreement was what came in place of such protection. If there was another way, then I would have taken that instead of making you do this,” he added.

I turned to Mum, who just stood there, looking as though she saw a ghost. She looked frightened and in pain. “Is this true, Mum?” I asked her, and she immediately nodded, tears filling her eyes.

Reluctantly, I turned my attention back to the man that was before me. “Fine,” I forcefully made myself say.

I had no choice, did I? He would have taken me. I had no say in this. This was just some charade to make it seem like I was being given a chance to choose. If I rejected, which I had countless times, it would be useless. I have analyzed the whole situation to deduce this. After all, he made me leave my room without my consent, so this was just some form of formality. “Good,” he said, then stood up. “Let’s go,” he said, not even staring at Mum who stood at the side as merely a spectator.

“I need to send my father a message. Please,” I told him, and after a brief second of thought, he nodded.

Quickly, I took a piece of paper and began to fill it up. My heart felt heavy doing this, but I knew I had to. If I was going to miss anyone, it was any father. He was the best father I could ever ask for. I began by thanking him for all he had done. I did not also fail to add that he was the best father that anyone would wish for. I knew he did not agree with this and must have been made to be silent because of Mum.

Dad was not someone to sit still in situations like this, and I have seen Mum stop him countless times, and I easily knew for this she stopped him from acting. I could already picture his face once he found out I was no longer home.

I told him that it was time to move on as I had been sold to a man I never knew, and life just had to continue no matter how pained we were. I also added that I would be in touch to make him and myself feel better about this separation, and I did not fail to include how I would miss him greatly.

I handed the letter to Mum, who was shedding tears and with shaky hands. She did this, so I saw no reason for her to be shedding tears now that her agreement was finally being fulfilled. I was greatly upset with her for it and did not even bother to give her more than a glance after handing the letter to her.

“I need to get my clothes. I have not packed yet,” I informed him.

“We can’t wait. We have spent a lot of time here already. I’ll get you new clothes,” he told me, which I nodded to without making a fight.

I had no energy for that anymore. He took my hand as I looked around the living room

 one last time. “Where are we going?” I asked him, and he replied, “Canada.”

It felt as though I would never be able to come back here. Not once have I left home and never come back, but now I was to leave for an unspecified number of times, and I doubted I would be granted access to come home.

All my memories, my toys, my anger, my happiness, and my celebrations were done within these four walls. I had my best and worst days here. All the time I ran home upset or excited because of my outstanding results in school.

This house was filled with memories, and I did not think I would be leaving it so soon to be with someone I had only just met. I felt hurt and upset, but I could not fight it. I tried, and I lost. My eyes stung, ready for tears to flow, but I stopped myself.

“Let’s go,” I told him as I turned around to face the door, finally leaving for good and never to return.

Life just knew how to mess with me, and I still do not know what awaited me when I got to Canada. My gut told me it was not something good.