The Love Contract
Victoria sat at the mahogany dining table, surrounded by stacks of bridal magazines. Her fingers danced over glossy pages, turning them one after another as she poured over each photograph. Her eyes lit up at the sight of delicate lace, intricate beading, and billowing veilsshe lingered over images of white gowns, quietly imagining herself in them. A warm sense of anticipation bloomed in her chest as she pictured the walk up the aisle, all eyes turned to her, her loved ones teary with pride and excitement
Beautiful she breathed, her gaze fixed on a particularly stunning dress with a full skirt and thin straps. It seemed the stuff of dreamslight as air, the silk shimmering beneath the studio lights.
But the smile faded from her lips almost instantly. Victoria closed the magazine with a sigh and rose from the table. Stepping to the tall mirror in its ornate frame, she examined her reflection. She turned to the side, cocked her head, attempting to see herself as someone else might. All the scenes from the magazines swirled in her mind, and she couldnt shake the feeling that reality might not measure up.
No, that wouldnt suit me at all, she said more firmly, as though making peace with the inevitable. My figure just isnt right for that.
She gave the mirror one last twirl, trying to imagine herself swathed in tulle and lace, a fitted bodice, layers upon layers of fabricand wrinkled her nose in disapproval.
I need something simpler, she mused aloud, as if consulting an invisible adviser. Puffed skirts are outIll look absolutely massive. But I cant have plain, either! After all, Im not getting married every day!
She brushed a hand through her hair, anxiety prickling beneath her skin. So many choices, so many stunning ideas, yet nothing felt quite right. She glanced back at the scattered magazines on the table, half-hoping the next page would reveal some life-changing inspiration. Instead, she only felt tired and overwhelmed.
I need to talk this through with someone, she muttered, perching on the edge of her chair. Before I completely lose the plot with all this planning.
A sudden slam of the front door broke the silence, making Victoria jump. Her eyes whipped from the sketches and clippings to the hallway, her heart stuttering. Who could be here at this time? She was certain only two people had keys: her father, and Oliver, her fiancé. Yet both were supposed to be outher father at an important business meeting, Oliver at some work conference hed mentioned that morning.
She held her breath, listening. Images flashed through her mindwhat if someone had broken in? She was usually at her boutique this time of day, leaving the house empty. The thought sent a shiver up her spine.
She stood, careful not to make a sound. Instinct led her quietly to the stairs leading to the ground floor, where she could watch from the lounge. The open archway there gave a clear view of the entrance. Victoria crept to the banister, peering out from behind the wall.
Relief softened her shoulders the moment she saw Oliver. His familiar frame, his easy manner as he kicked off his shoes and hummed to himself, let her breathe.
Oliver? she whispered in disbelief. But he should be at that meeting
She watched, trying to make sense of things. Was he surprising her with something? Who was he talking to?
Be patient, Lucy. Just a little longer, he said softly, in a tone Victoria had never heard beforegentle, almost tender. She froze. Hed never spoken to her this way. Soon as I finish my part of the deal, well finally be together.
A chilling sensation crawled through Victoria. She clenched her fists, grounding herself not to make a sound. A deal? Who on earth was Lucy?
How much longer? Olivers voice shifted to a brisk tone. Just six months. Well go through with the wedding, enjoy a few good months of married life His voice trailed off, betraying a flicker of distaste, as if the idea left a bitter taste.
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to process. Weddingtheir weddinga mere part of some agreement?
I dont care what Charles will do next, Oliver went on, sounding bolder, unburdened. Ill just pack up my things and go, as soon as the rest of my payment lands in my account.
The words hit her like a slap. She staggered back, clinging to the doorframe. Only one thought spun in her mind: He lied. Hes been lying all along.
She carefully withdrew, desperate to remain unheard. Her thoughts jumbled, but the implication was clearher father was involved. A contract. Payment. A half-year scheme. It all fell into place, a dreadful picture that made her want to scream, though her voice wouldnt come.
No matter how hard it was for her, Victoria knew she had to hear the rest. Perhaps thered be something moresomething that would shed light on what was happening.
Oliver settled into an armchair, stretched out, and resumed his call, blissfully unaware she overheard his every word.
Oh, stop worrying, he murmured, bobbing his head lazily. You know I love only you! Believe me, Im slogging through all this for us. Dont you want a lovely flat in the heart of London? To buy all the latest fashion and jewellery? How else could I afford any of it on my salary as an assistant? Six monthsthen its you and me, promise.
Oh no, youll be together much sooner than that, she said, her voice steady despite the trembling in her legs as she took the stairs one at a time.
Oliver spun at the sound of her voice. His face transformedhis smile vanished, his eyes wide with fear. The phone dropped to the floor with a hollow thud.
Vicki? he breathed, getting up. Confusion and panic mingled in his voice. Darling, what are you talking about?
He reached for her, as he had countless times before, trying to comfort her, but Victoria stepped back, lifting her chin. No trace of trust or tenderness remainedjust cold, bitter clarity.
Vicki she repeated in a hoarse whisper, her pain spilling out. Do you really think Im deaf? Did you think I wouldnt hear anything?
She stood her ground, though she shook inside. She searched his eyes for remorse, but only found desperate calculation.
Lucy Do I know her? Wasnt she the one you introduced as your sister? Her voice was even, laced with icy restraint.
Oliver blanched, stooping to pick up his fallen phone as if it might spare him. His hands shook. Thoughts racedhow could he dodge, how could he keep all the money?
You must be mistaken, he managed finally, summoning all his composure. Whos Lucy? I havent a clue what you mean.
He stepped forward, making to take her hand, but Victoria recoiled, steeling her resolve.
You know exactly what Im talking about, she said with a bitter chuckle, and Olivers eyes flickered away. I heard every word, all your sickly sweet nonsense. Honestly, it was painful to hear!
She swallowed, determined to hide just how deep the betrayal cut. Every dream, every plan, every tender momentsuddenly they seemed fake, a cheap farce, as if shed been cast as the clueless fool.
Oliver said nothing. He knew denial was hopelesshe shouldve checked she wasnt home. Admitting it terrified him; he still clung to the hope things might somehow return to normal.
You do realise there wont be a wedding, Victoria said, quietly final, sending a frozen chill through him. But before I throw you out of my home, I demand the truth. All of it. No lies, no excuses.
She folded her arms, icy determination in her eyes. There was no trace of tearsjust a burning need to understand the extent of this charade.
The truth? He echoed with a sneer. No point in pretending any longer. The truth, yeah? Fine. Id never have looked twice at you if your father hadnt offered me a deal. I played the doting partner, took you on dates, gave you all the right complimentsand in return, I got a cushy position and a very tidy sum. Might as well saydouble salary.
His voice was flat, almost bored, as if describing groceries or a dull work meeting. Each word carved into Victorias heart, shattering her final illusions.
All for money? she whispered, her whole body numb.
Did you honestly think someone would fall for your looks? Oliver laughed mockingly, every trace of warmth gone. Have you checked the mirror lately? Go on, take another look.
The remark stung sharper than she could have imagined. Victoria fought the lump in her throat and the burn of unshed tears, digging her nails into her palms to stay composed.
For a few moments she only stared at him, fighting to absorb everything shed just heard. The world seemed darker now, drained of colour. Every conversation, every date, every shared hopeall a scripted performance, with her as nothing more than a means to an end.
Get out! she said, her voice unwavering in spite of the storm inside her. Ill have your stuff sent over. Get out!
Oliver gave her one last contemptuous lookas if wanting to remember her like this: shaken, her eyes rimmed red, lips trembling. No regret in his gaze, only cold satisfaction at discarding his mask at last. He turned, reached calmly for his coat, and strolled to the front door as if he hadnt a care in the world. The lock clicked, and Victoria was left in suffocating silence.
The moment the door slammed, unease crept into Oliver. His thoughts now preoccupied with Charles, Victorias fathera stern, formidable man not known for leniency. Hed do anything for his daughter, and Oliver was certain thered be consequences. Stupid plan, he cursed himself as he walked down the stairs. Still, the hefty payment already in his account offered scant consolation.
At least it wasnt for nothing, he muttered, stepping out into the brisk evening air. Hope they dont make me give it backIve earned it, after all!
Inside, Victoria was left shaking as she dialled her fathers number, her fingers faltering as she pressed the screen. At last, he answered.
Dad! she cried, her voice breaking. How could you? How could you do that to me?
She gave him no time for explanation. The words tumbled out, raw and unsteady, her pain and rage overflowing.
You engineered it! You found him, paid him, made him pretend to be my fiancé! You didnt even care what I wanted! You thought you knew best!
She went on, voice trembling and fraught, not stopping for breath:
I trusted you! I thought he loved me! But it was all an act! You turned my life into a farce!
Charles tried to speak, but Victoria would not hear it. She let loose months of pent-up hurt and disappointment, weary from betrayal.
Never again! Dont you ever meddle in my life again. Do you hear me? Never!
She jabbed at the end call button and flung the phone onto the sofa, finally letting the tears fall. They streamed down her face as she buried it in her hands, shoulders shaking, feeling impossibly small and alone with her pain.
But those tears were about more than Oliver. Years of self-doubt and insecurity flooded her. Victoria had always struggled with her appearanceand her mother had only intensified those feelings.
Her motherAnnabel, who insisted on being called by her full name, even in ordinary moments; it sounded like music to her, a reminder of how she longed to be perceived: sophisticated, mysterious, irresistible. And for many years, it was trueAnnabel was stunning, with perfect features, thick auburn hair, and a presence that drew everyones stare.
That changed the day she trusted a brilliant surgeon friends raved about. Annabel only wanted to improve her nose, just a little. But the procedure went wrong; the result was irreversible. Annabels face changedand not for the better.
She didnt give up straightaway. She tried dozens of clinics, sought advice from the countrys best specialists, poured huge sums into surgeries. Every time, she hoped for restoration, for her old self to return. It only got worse.
Bit by bit, Annabels joy faded. First her confidence, then her willingness to see anyone. She stopped looking in mirrors, hid behind hats and sunglasses. Depression closed around her like fog; each day began with a heavy look in the mirror, continued in dim rooms, and ended with endless regret.
Then, she simply disappeared. No explanations, no goodbyesjust a brief note to Charles: I cant do it anymore. Forgive me. Then, silence. No calls or letters. She vanished, leaving her daughter to be raised by her father.
Victoria grew up studying photos of Annabelthe old ones, shining and beautiful. To her, that was forever Mum: smiling, tender, someone whose presence warmed the heart. The real ending was far harsher, and every year the gulf widened between the Annabel in her memory and the woman who left.
As a girl, Victoria couldnt help but compare herself to her motherand always came up short. Mums cheekbones were perfect; mine are too soft, she thought, examining herself. Her hair was always so silky Mine just poofs. Every feature seemed a flaw: her nose, lips, her less-than-slim body. Even when friends called her pretty, Victoria wouldnt believe them. To her, she was always in her mothers shadow.
This self-doubt seeped into every part of her life. At school, she kept quietly out of the way, terrified of being noticed. At uni, she dodged presentations, dreading that someone might study her too closely. Romance was hardestmen rarely showed interest, and if they did, quickly drifted away. Victoria blamed her looks for it all.
If only I were prettier, everything would be different, shed tell herself again and again, never realising it was her own lack of self-worth keeping people at arms length.
Then, Oliver appeared. He burst into her life like bright sunlight in a darkened room. He noticed her, gazed as though she was the only woman alive, complimented hernot just in vague platitudes, but sincerely, on her quirks, her laugh, her way of listening. He took her to sweet cafés, gave flowers without occasion, remembered the little things shed mention in passing.
For the first time in years, Victoria felt lovelynot flawless, like Annabel on aged film, but good enough. Attractive enough. Loved enough. She flourished in his company, daring to believe she was worthy. The more they shared their lives, the more convinced she becamethis must be the real thing.
But now, it had all crumbled. Olivers words, overheard by chance, shattered that fragile faith. Hed never loved her. He played a part. It was all a shamfrom the first look to the last endearment. Worst of all, her father had orchestrated itthe person shed trusted above all.
**************************
Standing in the bridal shops changing room, Victoria felt an unfamiliar sensationit wasnt joy, strangely, but a sense of calm, almost businesslike certainty. The white wedding dress framed her shoulders and skimmed her hips, the gentle folds whispering as she moved, lace on her sleeves catching the light in subtle patterns.
She studied her reflection. For once, she wasnt picking out flaws, wasnt scrutinising every detail. Today was different. Today, she accepted herselfjust as she was.
An hour later, Victoria was gliding up the aisle between rows of guests. Her chin was high, back straight, stride measured. Her eyes lacked the misty adoration usually seen in brides; instead, there was clarity and assurance. She noticed admiring glances, heard guests whispered acclaimshe was far from the weepy, radiant image of a typical newlywed.
Instead, her thoughts strayed to a conversation with her father, months ago.
Dad, Ive decided to accept Matthews proposal, shed told him, her stare level and steady.
Her father paused, mug of tea halfway to his mouth, clearly stunned at her resolve.
Are you sure, love? Its a big commitment.
Im sure, she replied. I dont want to keep waiting for some grand romance that might never come. I want stability, respect, a proper family. Matthew can offer me that.
But love her father started, but Victoria interrupted:
Love is wonderful, of course. But Im tired of waiting for a miracle. I need to build my own future now.
And so, as she drew closer to her groom, she silently reiterated those words. Matthew was waiting, nervous but composed, warmth and genuine regard in his gazeno wild passion, perhaps, but real, solid respect.
As the registrar began the time-honoured words, Victoria realised she had no regrets. No, it wasnt a fairy tale. But it was her choiceintentional, practical, grown-up.
Maybe Matthew wont love me madly, she thought, watching his steady smile. But hell respect me. And who knows We may even grow to love each other
The idea strengthened her. She smiled at Matthewnot stiffly, not for show, but honestly, feeling for the first time in a long while that she was doing the right thing. After all, love comes in many forms. And perhaps, at last, this was the beginning of something realnot a blinding flash, but strong ground beneath her feet, on which something true could be builtAs Victoria took Matthews hand, their fingers intertwinednot with feverish longing, but with a steady quietness. The registrars words faded into the gentle hum of hopes and memories. This wasnt the ending shed dreamed of as a little girl, nor the one the magazines promised. But for the first time, she understood that happiness didnt have to be dazzling or dramatic; sometimes, it was as simple as choosing peace over pretense.
She glanced at her father, who sat ramrod straight in the front row, pride and regret mingling in his eyes. For the briefest moment, their gazes metan apology, unspoken but understood, bridged the gulf that months of hurt had carved between them.
The ceremony ended. Amid the applause and soft laughter, Victoria walked with Matthew into the afternoon sunlight, the lace of her gown fluttering about her ankles. There, beyond the white arch and camera flashes, the world waitednot transformed, but somehow lighter.
By the river, when their guests dispersed to sip champagne and share polite congratulations, Matthew leaned close. He touched her cheek, tentative but sincere. Well make our own kind of life, you and I.
Victoria laughed, surprised by how free she suddenly felt. There would be days of doubt still, perhaps even sorrow, and certainly change. But shed learned something priceless from all the betrayal and heartbreak: she was enough, exactly as she waswithout costume, contract, or permission.
For the first time, Victoria looked forward not to the story she was supposed to star in, but to the one she would write herself. She lifted her chin, caught the scent of lilacs on the breeze, and squeezed Matthews hand. As they walked on, their silhouettes twinning in the late sun, she smileda small, private expression that shimmered with promise.
And so, the love contract endednot with a signature, but with a choice, and the courage to begin anew.
