The Unwanted Marriage (The Windsors, #3)

“No, Father,” I croak out. I avert my gaze, unable to take that look in his eyes. I’ve never been able to figure out why he hates me so much, nor have I been able to lessen the force of his hatred. No matter what I do, I’m never worthy of the kindness that he often shows Linda and Chloe. I’m the only one he hurts like this — never them. I’m grateful they’re spared from his cruelty, but I just wish I could be too.

“Now that a wedding date has finally been set, you’d better not give him a reason to postpone this marriage any further. Isn’t it bad enough they insisted we wait until you graduated college? I’m done waiting, Faye,” he says, tightening his fingers around my neck, until I nod in acquiescence.

“Luca Windsor disobeyed his grandmother and married his secretary instead of his fiancée. In doing so, he set a precedent that could make things difficult for us. Dion never felt like he had a choice, but he knows better now. With only a few months until the wedding, there’s no room for mistakes. It’s time to switch tactics — instead of avoiding him for fear his family realizes how inadequate you are, you must now charm him sufficiently to make him overlook your flaws.”

My stomach twists, but I nod nonetheless, resigned to my fate. The last thing I want to do is go anywhere near Dion, but I have no choice. It isn’t just my own life that’s at stake. If I don’t do as he says, he’ll punish my stepmother for it. “Yes, Father,” I murmur, my posture demure despite the defiance burning deep within.

He lets go of me and swipes his phone off the table. “Don’t mess this up,” he warns, before walking out. The door slams closed behind him, and I slowly sink into his vacant seat, my legs unable to carry me a moment longer. I’m trembling, and I hate myself for it. I hate feeling so weak, so helpless.

Chloe reaches for me, her hand wrapping around mine, and I try to force a smile for her. “Are you okay?” she whispers.

I nod and tighten my grip on her hand. I’m not even remotely okay, but I’ve gotten so good at pretending that most days, I fool even myself.

“You should arrange to see Dion soon,” Abigail says, her voice soft. She doesn’t even bother checking up on me. Perhaps she’s just gotten used to this, or maybe she simply doesn’t care about my wellbeing. More and more, I’m starting to wonder if it might be the latter.

When was the last time she tried to defend me? I’d never want her to get between my father and me, because that would only make matters worse, but shouldn’t she at least be a little concerned?

“I will. I’m seeing his sister today, and if he’s back, he might be there too,” I lie, suppressing the wave of guilt that accompanies my words.

“Good,” she breathes. I stare at her for a second and take in her flawless makeup and that beautiful blonde hair that sets the girls and her apart from me. I wonder if there are bruises hidden underneath all the foundation she wears.

“Your father is a good man,” Abigail says, her eyes on her plate. I wonder who she’s trying to convince with her words — me, the girls, or herself? “Just make sure Dion marries you, Faye. Everything will be perfect again once we have the money the Windsors promised us. Your dad hasn’t been the same since his company nearly went bankrupt. The mining industry isn’t what it used to be. He’s doing his best, but he needs the financial help they’ll provide.”

She says that all the time, but my father has been the way he is for as long as I can remember. She’s clinging to the person he was over a decade ago, back when his business was still thriving, before his love for alcohol surpassed his love for us.

I sigh and get up, unable to look at her for a moment longer. “I should get ready. I’d hate to keep Sierra Windsor waiting,” I say, the lie rolling off my tongue with more ease now.

One more time. I’ll be selfish one last time.





Chapter Three





Faye



“What happened?” Eric asks, his voice laced with concern. He reaches for my hand over the table and entwines our fingers before gently pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this upset, Faye.”

My eyes widen, and he smiles at me so tenderly that my aching heart skips a beat. I’m so used to being invisible, even in plain sight, that his observations catch me off-guard. My family only sees what they want to, and they’ve always been blind to my pain. Or maybe they’ve just grown so accustomed to it that it no longer registers.

For a moment, I wonder what might happen if I told Eric the truth. Would he run away with me? Would he protect me? Or would he be horrified if I told him I’m technically, albeit unwillingly, engaged?

“I’m just worried about my next concert,” I murmur, unsure of what else to say. Telling him the truth would taint everything we had. “I’m considering playing something I composed,” I add, indulging in the fantasy I’ve created. My father would never allow me to play something I wrote myself. The few times he caught me practicing a piece I’d composed, he’d reprimanded me severely, leaving me incapable of playing for days.

Yet somehow, right here, right now, I want to pretend. This entire charade will come to an end the moment I break up with Eric, but for a few more hours, I want to keep pretending that I truly am everything he thinks I am.

When I’m with him, I get to be the person I wish I was every second of every day. Maybe in a different life, the rest of our story wouldn’t remain unwritten. In a different life, he could’ve been the one I’d get to marry, the one I’d get to grow old with.

I glance around the quiet coffeeshop — the same one we first met at all those months ago. He’d spend his lunch breaks here, sitting at the table opposite mine as I studied. The two of us would steal looks at each other, day after day, until he finally gathered the courage to ask if he could sit with me.

I never meant to fall for him. This was never supposed to be more than friendship, but I can’t bring myself to regret us. I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to follow my heart, even if it’s only for a little while. Eric is the only thing I’ve ever dared want for myself, the only choice I got to make. He’s my only glimmer of happiness in a world that seeks to drown me in despair. He’ll never know how much these few months with him meant to me. Having to end our relationship today fills me with a foreign despair — it feels like losing hope.

“I’d say that I’d buy a ticket to come see you, but I know you won’t let me.” He pauses then, smiling. He’s never asked more of me than I can give, accepting every one of my excuses each time he wanted something I couldn’t commit to. I always wondered why. Does a small part of him know that this thing between us can’t last? “So instead, will you please have lunch with me? Today is our six-month anniversary, you know? I’d like to take you on a proper date for once. Will you let me?”

I tense, surprised that he’d remember something like that. It isn’t even a true anniversary — today simply marks six months from the day he and I started sharing this little table. It hurts to know that I’ll never see him look at me that way again.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask, giving in. Just one more memory. One day of not having to tell him no. That’s all I want. When this day ends, I’ll go back to playing the role my father wrote for me. I’ll do everything that’s expected of me, but this… this is what I want in return. One date with a man who cherishes me. Just one.

Eric smiles, a hint of surprise mingling with his blatant excitement. He truly didn’t expect me to say yes. “Let me take you to The Lacara,” he says, his words rushed.

My stomach drops, and my entire body instantly freezes. Did he say The Lacara?

He pauses, misinterpreting the shock I fail to hide. Eric shakes his head and smiles as he squeezes my hand. “They have a Michelin starred restaurant,” he explains. “Though I’ll gladly get a room if you’d like one.”

I force a smile despite the wild beating of my heart and avert my gaze. The Windsors own multiple hotels, and I doubt they’re ever personally present at any of them. What are the odds of running into one of the Windsor siblings at The Lacara? Probably slim to none. Logically, I know that, yet somehow, Eric’s choice feels ominous. It feels like a reminder that I can’t escape Dion, not even in these final moments with Eric. “I’d love that,” I say nonetheless, desperate for just a few more choices of my own.

His brows rise, and he throws me a mischievous look. “The restaurant or the room?” he asks, grinning.

“Both, if you’re lucky.” I’d meant it as a joke, but the way his eyes darken makes my stomach flutter. Doing something like that… it’d never even occurred to me.

Could I really sleep with him? I won’t ever see Eric again after today — I can’t risk it with Dion moving back soon, but at least I’d have a memory to carry me through the years to come. It’d be the last choice I get to make, and the thought of giving him something that Dion likely thinks he’s entitled to fills me with satisfaction.

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