The Pact of Love
Many years ago, Emily sat at a vast oak table piled high with wedding catalogues. The glossy pages fluttered under her fingers as she pored over every detaildelicate lace appliqués, intricate embroidery, ethereal veils. Her eyes would linger on images of snowy white dresses, and in her mind, she imagined herself in each, her heart growing warm with anticipation. She pictured walking down the aisle toward her fiancé, all eyes upon her, her family trembling with emotion
How lovely she murmured, unable to pull her gaze away from a particularly stunning dress with a voluminous skirt and slender straps, shimmering like a fairy tale under the studio lights.
But her smile quickly faded. With a sigh, Emily pushed the magazine aside and rose from the table, moving slowly. She approached the tall, carved mirror that stood by the window, examining her reflection from every angle. She tipped her head, looking at herself as a stranger might. The perfect images on the pages never quite seemed to match reality.
It would never suit me, she said firmly, trying to steel herself. My shape just isnt right.
Turning in front of the glass, she pictured herself in the billowing gownfull skirt, corset, endless layers of fabric. And at once, she made a face of displeasure.
I ought to choose something simpler, she said aloud, as if consulting an unseen advisor. Those big skirts are outtheyll make me look enormous. But I dont want something plain either! One doesnt get married every day!
Emily ran a nervous hand through her hair, anxiety creeping in. So many choices, so many beautiful ideasyet none felt right. She glanced again at the scattered magazines, as if the next page would suddenly reveal a miracle. Instead, exhaustion and confusion washed over her.
I simply must talk to someone before I lose my wits, she muttered, perching on the edge of her chair.
The sudden slam of the front door broke the quiet, startling her. She looked up sharply, her heart leaping. Who could it be at this hour? Only two people had keys: her father and William, her fiancé. But both were busy todayher father was off to an important business lunch, and William had said hed be at a meeting all afternoon.
Emily held her breath, listening. Unbidden worries ran through her mind: what if it was an intruder? She was usually out at her workshop at this hour, and the house would be empty. She shivered at the thought.
She rose quietly and crept toward the stairs, her feet taking her down to the landing overlooking the hallway. There, from behind the banister, she had a perfect view of the entrance.
Relief flooded her: it was William, unmistakably. He stood in the hall, carelessly shoving off his shoes and whistling tunelessly.
William? she whispered in surprise. What on earth was he doing here?
She watched cautiously, uncertain of what was happening. Was this a surprise? But who was he talking to?
Just a little longer, love, William was saying, his voice softer than Emily had ever heard it. She froze, heart pounding. Ill hold up my end of the bargain soon, and well be together.
Ice seemed to fill Emilys veins. She clenched her fists, straining not to make a sound. A bargain? And who on earth was he talking to?
How much longer? Just six months, he went on, briskly now, the warmth fading from his tone. Yes, the weddings next montha few blissful months of married life His voice faltered, as if the words tasted sour.
The whole world seemed to tilther wedding was just part of some agreement?
As for what your Jacob wants afterwardsI couldnt care less, William continued, growing confident, as if they were simply discussing business. Ill just pack up the moment the money comes in.
The words struck like a slap. Emily staggered back, gripping the door frame for support. One thought raced through her mindHe lied. Hes been lying all along.
She tried to gather her thoughts, torn between panic and fury. Her father was mixed up in thissome kind of deal, a reward, a half-year plan. She wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat.
Still, she couldnt tear herself away; she had to hear what else William might say.
William had flopped down onto a chair, stretching his legs, oblivious to Emilys presence as he continued his call.
Stop worrying, darling, he said, shaking his head lightly. You know its only you I care about. Im doing all of this for us. Dont you want a beautiful flat in the centre? To buy lovely clothes and jewels? Well, give it six monthsI promise, well have everything.
Before she realised it, Emily was descending the stairs, her legs shaking with each step, but she forced herself onward.
Youll be together rather sooner than that, she announced, her voice steady, pushing through her pain.
William spun round so fast he nearly dropped his phone. The blood drained from his face, his eyes wide in terror.
Em? What what do you mean, darling? He reached out a trembling hand for her, as if to calm her as he had done so many times before. But Emily recoiled, jaw set, her eyes hard and cold.
Em she echoed, her voice low, laced with all the pain shed struggled to suppress. Do you think Im deaf? I heard every word.
She stood before him straight and unflinching, searching his eyes for a glimmer of remorse or truth, but seeing only confusion and the fevered search for an excuse.
Who is she? ThatLucywas that the same girl you introduced as your sister? she said, her words clipped and icy.
William paled, his trembling hands scrambling for the fallen phone as though it could shield him from the moment.
Youre mistaken, he blurted, striving for composure. Lucy? I dont know what youre on about.
He stepped closer, reaching for her, but Emily shrank back, her resolve steeling.
You know exactly what I mean, she replied with a bitter, mirthless smile, and Williams gaze dropped, unable to meet those cold, unwavering eyes. I heard you. Just now, cooing into your mobile. It was repulsive to listen to.
She swallowed hard, forcing the tremor from her voice. Inside, everything shudderedher dreams, plans, every tender moment theyd shared now revealed as a farce where she had been nothing more than a gullible extra.
William said nothing, realising escape was impossible. Still, fear held him silent, his mind racing to salvage what he could.
There wont be a wedding, Emily said, her voice clear and final. A chill swept over William. But before I throw you out, I want the truth. No lies. No justifications.
She folded her arms, building her own shield, her eyes dry and fearless.
The truth? He sneereda bitter, almost spiteful expression twisting his lips. No need for masks anymore. You want truth? Fine then. I would never have even looked at you if your father hadnt made me an offer. I gave you flowers, took you to dinner, whispered sweet nothings, and in return, I got a cushy job and a tidy bonus. Two salaries for a bit of play-acting.
His voice was matter-of-fact, almost boredas if he were chatting about grocery shopping. Every word hammered at Emilys soul, crumbling what little hope remained.
All for money? she murmured, numb, her voice breaking.
Did you actually think anyone would be attracted to you? he laughed, a cruel, cold sound. Really, you ought to stand in front of that mirror and take a good look at yourself.
It was like being scalded. Emily bit her lip, fighting the urge to cryshe wouldnt give him that satisfaction. She pressed her nails into her palms until it hurt, anything to keep herself upright.
She stared at him for several moments, trying to comprehend, as the colour seemed to drain from the world. Their talks, their dates, their little joysall of it had been one cold, calculated ruse.
Get out! she ordered, her voice hard and cutting, though inside she was crumbling. Ill send along your things by courier. Out!
William fixed her with a long, appraising glarecold, impersonal, as if memorising her tear-dampened face. There was no remorse, just the relief of finally discarding his mask. He turned deliberately, slid into his coat, and left the house in utter silence.
The moment the door clicked shut, anxiety twisted Williams stomach. His thoughts racedwhat would he say to Jacob? Emilys father was not a man to be crossed, and William shuddered at the consequences. Stillthe money was his now, and he comforted himself with that.
At least Ive got something for my trouble, he muttered on his way out. I earned it, after all.
Back in the quiet, Emilys hands trembled as she thumbed in her fathers number. She misdialed twice before it finally rang.
Dad! Her voice broke into a near shout the moment Jacob answered. How could you? How could you do this to me?
There were no pauses, no chances for him to reply. Her words poured out, ragged, hot with grief and betrayal:
You fixed it! You hired him, paid him to play my fiancé! You never even asked me what I wanted. You just decided you knew best!
She couldnt stop now, her anger and pain gushing forth:
I trusted you! I believed he he loved me. But it was all an act! You turned my life into a play!
Jacob tried to interject, but she wouldnt listen, shouting down all his attempts. With every word, she released monthsa lifetimeof disappointment and agony.
Never again! Never interfere in my life again! Did you hear me? Never!
She stabbed her finger at the end call button, tossing the mobile onto the sofa, and broke down at last. Tears ran down her cheeks as she pressed her face into her hands. She shook silently, feeling as though shed been left alone in the world.
Her sobs were not just for William. Years of self-doubt, insecurities, and buried fears flooded in. Emilys whole life she had felt lesser for her appearance. She would stand in front of the mirror, scrutinising every perceived flaw. If only my waist were slimmer, or my figure more graceful, she would think. She envied the women she saw in magazines, dreamt of surgical fixes, but always stepped back at the last moment. Much as she wanted to change, she couldnt forget her mothers story.
Her motheralways Annabelle to friends and family, a name filled with music and gracehad once dazzled with her looks, drawing every eye. Yet a single ill-fated surgerya minor refinement, so she hopedchanged everything. The procedure went dreadfully wrong, marring her once-perfect features.
Annabelle spent fortunes trying to repair the damage, crossing London and beyond for consultations, enduring procedure after procedure. Each failure eroded her joy and confidence. She eventually shunned mirrors, hiding behind hats and sunglasses, her spirit shrouded by gloom. Days blurred together in a house of shadows, every morning marked by regret.
And then, she vanished. No farewell, only a brief note for Jacob: I cant do this anymore. Forgive me. She left no trace, leaving their daughter to the care of her father.
Emily grew up with photos of her motherthe lovely, laughing Annabelle, forever young and perfect. That image haunted her, a chasm always widening between her mothers former self and the person she became before her disappearance.
Early on, Emily began to compare herself to her mother and always found herself wanting. Mothers bones were so fine, mine are just round and plain, shed sigh. Her hair was a river of silk, mine is an unruly mop. She picked out every flawtoo large a nose, lips not full enough, a body never slim. Compliments from classmates or teachers never reached her heart. She saw only a faint echo of Annabelle.
This self-doubt bled into everything. She kept to the background at school, never seeking the limelight. At university, she avoided speaking in front of others. Love was even more elusiveboys rarely seemed interested, and the few that did moved on quickly. Emily blamed her looks.
If only I were prettier, everything would be different, shed tell herself while diving deeper into self-criticism, blind to the confidence she lackedthe very thing that warmed others to her.
Then along came Williama bright light breaking through all her shadows. He saw her, really saw her, with a gaze that made her feel she was the only woman in England. He gave specific complimentsher laughter, her thoughtfulness, her way with words. He bought her flowers for no reason, delighted in little cafes, remembered every detail shed let slip.
For the first time, Emily felt beautiful. Not flawless, but enoughgood enough, worthy enough, lovable enough. She opened up, began to hope. More than hope, she believed shed finally found real love.
And now, it was shattered. Williams wordsthe overheard confessionhad destroyed the delicate bridge shed built. He didnt love her. It was all deception, staged from the first hello. And behind it stood her fatherthe one she trusted above all.
**************************
Much later, Emily found herself standing before the mirror of a bridal boutique. But this time, she felt a strange calma kind of clear, practical certainty, not the heady thrill she once expected. The white dress she tried on suited her simply, following the gentle slope of her shoulders, the folds of fabric quietly swishing with each movement, lace on the sleeves catching the afternoon light.
She examined her reflection, not searching for faults nor obsessing over details. Today she simply accepted herself as she was.
An hour later, Emily was walking down the aisle. Her chin was high, step steady, eyes clear. She didnt wear the soft, misty-eyed dreaminess of most brides, but a resolute light. Guests smiled, whispered compliments, exchanging surprised glancesthis was not the weeping bride so often seen, but a young woman sure of herself.
She nodded to them all but her mind drifted back to a conversation with her father, a few months prior.
Dad, Ive decided to accept Jamess proposal, shed said, meeting his gaze directly.
Her father paused mid-coffee, plainly startled by her resolve.
Are you certain, love? Its a serious step.
Im sure, she answered. Im done waiting for love that may never come. I want something realstability, respect, a good family. James offers that.
But what about love? he began, but Emily interrupted.
Love is wonderful, but Im done chasing miracles. Ill build my own life, my own way.
Now, as she neared her groom, she repeated those words inwardly. James stood waitingnervous, but composed. There was no wild passion in his eyes, but there was earnestness, kindness, something solid and real. That meant more to her than all the make-believe romance in the world.
As the registrar began the solemn vows, Emily realised she had no regrets. No, it was not a fairy tale. But it was her choicea conscious, mature one.
Perhaps James will never be madly in love with me, she thought, glancing at her fiancé. But he will respect me. And who knows perhaps, in time, well grow to love each other.
The thought was comforting, and she gave James her first true smile in monthsa genuine one, warm and hopeful. After all, love takes many forms. Perhaps their story was just beginning, not with a blinding flash of lightning, but with steady, solid groundenough to build something lasting and true.
