CHAPTER 15
Lisa's POV
I know it's time we speak when Grandma abruptly switches off the TV to interrupt the movie I'm watching while savoring the handmade popcorn I made this morning.
She yells out, "Lisa," setting the remote on the little stool next to her and turning to face me.
I drop the bowl and finish chewing the last of the popcorn before turning to look bad at her.
She is direct and to the point, asking, "I want you to tell me what is happening and why you are getting married."
I scowl and shake my head while seeming bewildered. "I'm getting married, but why? I thought we had previously discussed this.
Yes, we did, but despite all you warned me, she adamantly states, looking attentively at me for anything to cling on. Most likely a moment of guilt. Or sobbing uncontrollably while telling her my misdeeds.
What good will any of this be, though? What benefit will it have? Nothing. nothing at all. Instead, it will just add to the complexity of this problem.
First of all, until it is finished, which occurs after a year, Damien will never allow me out of this deal.
Also, I'm incredibly motivated to achieve this. After the argument with Juliet, I am very certain that this is for me, and I must take full advantage of this chance. I also need to convince Juliet of something. She violated my confidence. She turned on me.
Grandma would never help me, thirdly. The most challenging part is that she would never have allowed me to do this because of her.
Grandma forbids me from continuing, yet Damien won't allow me to end this.
This gives me even more justification to keep it away from her. She is not yet in need of knowing the truth.
I'm going to tell her the truth and beg for her pardon after a year. And by then, we would be in great shape. I'll go buy a store so I can get her something to do as well. We'll both be rich by then, so it won't be an issue anymore.
"I told you we got together. Two persons who are completely in love should probably get married. As long as they have both said that they want to be together forever, nothing should stop them from taking that brave step, I find myself telling her, and it's astonishing.
I'm not sure where the bravery and confidence came from, but I'm determined to make sure that this marriage takes place and that Grandma doesn't find out until it's over.
There is a growing hush.
She continues to observe me. After a bit, she leans back, and I turn away from her because I'm sick of the act.
"You two love each other, right?" She asks me once again as if she wants to be certain or to use it as proof in case anything occurs later.
I calmly say, "Yes, we do," and I'm now looking at her.
And you two are getting married the following week? She insists, and I agree while putting on the appearance of a joyful bride-to-be.
She sometimes nods. Then, what should we make of a bride's husband failing to appear after their first meeting with the bride's only surviving relative?
My face skates on confusion.
"I haven't seen your husband recently. How do you anticipate that I will accept the cock and bull tale you concocted for me? She now speaks louder and seems enraged.
My jaw drops wide, and disappointment can be shown on my face. A "Cock and Bull Story?"
She forcefully said, nearly yelling at me, "Yes."
I sigh as I silently observe her for a while, then nod my head and lie back on the chair.
We both remain mute. in a deep contemplation. I wish I could read her mind and understand everything she is considering so I could figure out how to approach her.
I have an idea all of a sudden. Grandma needs a third party to accept my alleged "cock and bull" account, and that person should be my buddy Juliet if she doesn't already.
I sighed in frustration. Because Juliet and I don't get along, the plan won't work. If only we were trustworthy, I would advise her to phone Juliet or maybe even invite her over to check on my sincerity.
Although I know Juliet would support me, it is now difficult because of our strained relationship. I'm pleased I learned Juliet's actual character before Grandma phoned to discuss the wedding. If Damien hadn't informed me, I could have asked Grandma to phone Juliet, which would have revealed my secret.
Now that Grandma isn't talking to me or even answering my calls, it occurs to me that Juliet may be able to let her in on my secret.
Yesterday after leaving her place of employment, I frantically waited for her call, but none came.
I contacted her to try to work things out when I couldn't take it any longer, but she didn't answer, and that was enough to persuade me that she is no longer a friend.
Grandma's apology of "I'm sorry" chills me to my core. I anticipate that. I look down to see the contrite expression on her face.
I don't intend to be critical and pessimistic about your affairs; I only want you to be in good hands. It's quite difficult for me to imagine that you fell in love with your employer in a matter of days, especially given the fact that he paid for our operation. It's quite difficult to believe.
She is crying, and I give her a sorrowful grin as I get up to go to her. We hug as I am seated next to her.
She returns my embrace. "Mother, I love Damien."
My eyes start to tear up right now too. I wish I had magical abilities at times like these. She gets upset when I call her mother in situations like these because she remembers her daughter, who is my mother.
I wish things were different and I wasn't had to do this in order to get money. However, nothing has changed, none of us are wealthy or well-off, and if I don't seize this chance, I won't have another one like it in my whole life.
We embrace each other tightly as she tears, and I begin to realize that Grandma and I won't be living together after Damien and I are married.
I will never be able to persuade him to let her remain with us. Grandma would be watching us both, which would have an impact on our agreement.
"I'm sorry I questioned you. I think it's hard for me to believe that this is just motivated by love and not anything else because of the manipulative lifestyle I had when I was your age. She faintly chuckles.
I keep silent because I am at a loss for words.
She releases her grip on me after the embrace, grabs my face in her hands, and leans in to kiss my forehead.
She prays, "I wish you nothing but goodness in your marriage," and I respond with a resounding "Amen!" and a cute grin.
She adds with a pleased grin, "May you yield fortunate fruits that will be the cooling of your eyes.
I brow furrow at her. "What does that mean?" you ask.
Her eyes sparkle with delight, and her grin grows.
I flush crimson in the cheeks as she says, "Children," even though I know it won't be feasible.
As mentioned in the contract, Damien and I won't even live in close proximity or share a bed, which would allow us to even have sexual contact and cause me to get pregnant.
If I can't have intercourse with him, how can I subsequently produce fruit?
I look at her with startled eyes to observe that she has her eyes tightly shut, as if she were in a heavenly dimension as she says, "Your first fruits shall be twins."
I feign a chuckle, and she says, "Mother." It's a lot, that.
No, it's not. She says, "I can see it," and I shake my head. I don't think she can see into the future, but even if she could, I wouldn't trust her or anybody else if they said that I will have children for Damien in the near future since I know it is impossible.
She releases her grip on my cheeks, and a profound scowl appears on her face.
She looks at me closely while maintaining the phony grin on my face despite the fact that I can literally feel my cheeks aching.
"What about him now that we've established that you're in love with him?"
"What?!" I scream in bewilderment.
She pauses before asking for a minute. The question "Does he love you?"
I sniffle and cough a few times before turning to her without answering. What are you saying?
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