Chapter Eighty two

New year's eve found us in New York.

My father was elated to see us. Despite how worrisomely pale he looked, he went about with gaiety and made us comfortable.

We arrived early that morning and by midday we were lazing around in my dad's living room.

I was seated next to Damien even as my father narrated some of his humorous stories about my childhood to my husband. I was so embarrassed when he reminded me of the time I had fourteen deviled eggs that had stayed overnight and ended up going through the most uncomfortable stooling experience I've ever had.

"Papa esto es tan vergonzoso!" I whined, obviously a blushing mess. (Dad, this is so embarrassing!)

He laughed boisterously and it led him into fits of coughs. I rushed to his side and had him drink a glass of water but what I saw had me setting the cup aside as I stared at him in a mix of shock, worry and fear.

"Dad, blood! You're coughing out blood!" I pointed out in terror, glued to the spot I stood on.

Damien rushed to my side and helped me take a seat before going over to my father's side and saw to it that he was breathing just fine.

"There's something I have to tell you." Dad said in between coughs.

I looked up at Damien and he had a somber expression on his face. He and Dad shared a look that had me questioning them with my gaze.

"What's going on?" I asked as my eyes darted between both of them seated across me.

"Ariana-" Damien started to say but my father cut him short.

"Son, let me take it from here." Dad gave him a soft pat on the arm and he nodded and excused us.

"I've been hiding this for such a long time and I feel it's about time you heard the truth about your marriage."

"Truth about my marriage?!" I exclaimed in astonishment. Those words sent alarm bells ringing in my head.

"Dad, what are you talking about? I know why I married Damien, it's because of how much you owed him and were unable to pay right?"

He kept mute and had a sad looks on his face while I just stared back in confusion.

"Dad, say something, you're getting me worried."

"I never told you the whole story but, your marriage with Damien isn't what you think it is." The strangeness of his tone gave me chills.

"How do you mean?"

"Years back, while you were a little gir,l at about eight years old, I worked with Damien's father and we turned out to be really close. Back then I was really affluent and amid one of our usual wine induced chatters, George said he'd like for his son to marry my only daughter someday, which is you. What seemed to be a joke at first turned into a real deal and we had to sign it. At the time, I had no idea that he had stipulated a marriage clause in his will concerning Damien. It's almost like he foresaw the future, maybe he did. It was only a year later, he died and I had to uphold my end of the bargain even when the rest of his family had no idea what had transpired." He narrated.

Anyone can imagine the series of shock that slapped me on the face after what I just heard.

"After George's death, it seemed everything was forgotten up until when Damien reached out few years back and told me about the clause in his father's will. I was reluctant at first until our company packed up and I needed his help since he had become a billionaire. He reminded me of the deal and I agreed,"

"When was this?" I cut his statement short with my interruption.

"Two years ago." He said and I managed a nod in response.

"Remember I was the one who insisted you applied for the job of a waitress at Lucio?"

I gasped. There and then, it made sense. It all made sense. Why he was so hell bent on seeing to it that I got a job there when I just applied for a few white collar jobs and was yet to get a suitable response. Damien owns Lucio and my father had always known this. They had it all planned out.

"You planned out my whole life!" I yelled aggressively, pointing at him.

I went into a bout of aggressive mutterings in my mother tongue as I paced the room, trying to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

"Ari please calm down." He said pleadingly.

"Calm down?! After what you just told me?" I stomped my left foot on the floor, not missing how thick my Spanish accent went whenever I got so angry.

"Please, I still have something to tell you." He looked like he was about to break down in tears too but I shunned my heart from caring.

"I have to ask you something first." I said still trying to curb my anger. I watched as he nodded slowly.

"If I was meant to marry him from the beginning, why did he have to draft a faux contract for our marriage?" I questioned.

"That's because I wasn't sure if we would work out. So I just had to draft a contract to secure a trial marriage. Knowing you wouldn't leave up until the one year mark and until I had gotten my inheritance was all the assurance I needed at the time." Damien came in from behind me and explained. I turned to him with a hurt expression.

"So you were using me?" I pointed at myself as I croaked the words out.

"You lied to me?" I questioned further.

He gave me an apologetic glance but said nothing.

"You deceived and tricked me into this marriage! And, I have every right to sue you right now!" I yelled not minding how shrill I sounded. The walls could fall to the ground for all I cared but I just had to let it out somehow.

"I know you do babe and I'm so-"

"Don't you dare!" I gritted as he tried reaching for me with a concilliatory tone. He drew back immediately. For once, those grey eyes had no effect on me. I hated him for being so deceitful.

A humorless chuckle eluded my parched throat even as I derisively shook my head.

"I've been a game to you. A pawn on your chessboard. Both of you."

My statement was heavy for sure, cause I was met with cold silence.

I needed some air and I wanted to walk out of the room but the words of my father halted my movement.

"Me muero pronto." He said solemnly. (I'm dying soon.)

"Is this a ploy to emotionally blackmail me into forgiving you?" I wryly said.

"I promise you it isn't." He sounded sincere.

"What do you mean?" I uttered uninterestedly even as my heart raced.

"Stage four lung cancer, I have roughly four weeks to live." He solemnly said.

My legs gave way even as a cold chill ran through me. I could hear my heart beat clearly in my ears even as a fresh set of tears rolled down my cheeks.

"What?" I breathed out shakily.

"I've been living with it for five years but it's gotten worse over time and now, "

"Dad..." A hoarse whisper was all that could elude my speechless tongue.

How does someone react to such news? At this point, I had gone numb with shock. So many unexpected surprises all in one day. This was no way to end the year but here I was.

I looked up at the man I married and saw that he wasn't at all expressing any form of surprise.

"You knew?" I managed to ask.

"We couldn't bring ourselves to tell you, Ariana." Dad spoke up for him.

My heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest. I couldn't breathe. I desperately wanted to wake up from this dream, this nightmare I had found myself in was too much. I needed to wake up from it.

I couldn't form any words, I just kept gasping for air until I fell unconscious, hoping that when I woke up, it would all go away.