Page 11
Story: The Merciless Don's Bride
“Daddy, you’re never going to believe this,” I say excitedly, practically bouncing on the sole of my feet. “I got in! I got into freaking Harvard!”
He immediately releases a breath, his eyes growing softer.
“Of course you got in, sweetheart. I never doubted you for a second,” he states.
He gives me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling down on the couch. I settle down beside him, letting him wrap his arms around me as we both stare at the acceptance letter in front of us.
“So you’re really going to Harvard, huh?” my dad asks after a minute.
“Yeah obviously,” I say laughing.
“But you do still remember the NYU acceptance email you got earlier this week, right?” he asks lightly.
I snort, “Dad, there’s no way I’m going to NYU. You can kill that dream.”
“I just wish you wouldn’t go so far away, sweetie,” he says.
“Boston isn’t that far away. I’ll be fine. You already agreed to let me go, dad. You can’t take that back.”
He adjusts the glasses perched against his nose, his eyes warm, “And I’m not trying to. I’m just worried. My little girl’s never lived away from me before.”
“Kids grow up and then they find their own path in life. They go to college, meet cute boys and have lots of fun.”
His eyes narrow, “They also focus on their education. And you’re not allowed to date, Cassandra.”
“Right. I would never,” I say dryly. “But the point is I’m going to be fine. You know I will be.”
“I know. You’re all grown up, sweetheart. Strong, resilient.”
“I’m a Solis. And I take after my daddy. I could never be anything but strong.”
He nods in agreement before looking away. His eyes get a sort of faraway look, like he’s thinking of something grim. I laugh.
“Dad, if you’re this worried about me going to college, how are you going to act when you have to give me away on my wedding day?”
His hand tightens around me at that, “Who says I’m going to give you away? No man will ever be good enough for my princess.”
I smile. “Someone will have to be good enough for me eventually.”
“Not going to happen, Cassie. I’ll protect you. Always,” he states, his eyes fierce.
My father has always made me feel safe and protected. I know as long as I have him. I’ll be okay. Always.
***
Present Day
Death is a strange concept. It’s incredible how a person can be here one minute and then gone the next. And then you have to contend with the fact that you’ll never get to see them again, talk to them, feel them.
I wish I could say that this all feels strange. But I’m no stranger to death. I’ve already had to bury one parent. And now I have to bury the other one. Which is, honestly, beyond cruel.
I wish I could say that I’m angry, frustrated, or sad. I felt grief in the hours after I learned about my father’s death. And right now, I feel nothing.
The church is packed. People are crammed into pews ad aisles, all of them cloaked in black, the air thick with the scent of lilies and polished wood. I’m seated at the front, my uncle on one side, my best friends on the other. There’s a crumpled tissue in my hand, but my eyes are dry.
I just feel numb.
The priest’s voice drifts over me, low and steady, talking about life and death and heaven and peace. I hear the words, but they don’t stick. They slide past me, meaningless and heavy.
He immediately releases a breath, his eyes growing softer.
“Of course you got in, sweetheart. I never doubted you for a second,” he states.
He gives me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling down on the couch. I settle down beside him, letting him wrap his arms around me as we both stare at the acceptance letter in front of us.
“So you’re really going to Harvard, huh?” my dad asks after a minute.
“Yeah obviously,” I say laughing.
“But you do still remember the NYU acceptance email you got earlier this week, right?” he asks lightly.
I snort, “Dad, there’s no way I’m going to NYU. You can kill that dream.”
“I just wish you wouldn’t go so far away, sweetie,” he says.
“Boston isn’t that far away. I’ll be fine. You already agreed to let me go, dad. You can’t take that back.”
He adjusts the glasses perched against his nose, his eyes warm, “And I’m not trying to. I’m just worried. My little girl’s never lived away from me before.”
“Kids grow up and then they find their own path in life. They go to college, meet cute boys and have lots of fun.”
His eyes narrow, “They also focus on their education. And you’re not allowed to date, Cassandra.”
“Right. I would never,” I say dryly. “But the point is I’m going to be fine. You know I will be.”
“I know. You’re all grown up, sweetheart. Strong, resilient.”
“I’m a Solis. And I take after my daddy. I could never be anything but strong.”
He nods in agreement before looking away. His eyes get a sort of faraway look, like he’s thinking of something grim. I laugh.
“Dad, if you’re this worried about me going to college, how are you going to act when you have to give me away on my wedding day?”
His hand tightens around me at that, “Who says I’m going to give you away? No man will ever be good enough for my princess.”
I smile. “Someone will have to be good enough for me eventually.”
“Not going to happen, Cassie. I’ll protect you. Always,” he states, his eyes fierce.
My father has always made me feel safe and protected. I know as long as I have him. I’ll be okay. Always.
***
Present Day
Death is a strange concept. It’s incredible how a person can be here one minute and then gone the next. And then you have to contend with the fact that you’ll never get to see them again, talk to them, feel them.
I wish I could say that this all feels strange. But I’m no stranger to death. I’ve already had to bury one parent. And now I have to bury the other one. Which is, honestly, beyond cruel.
I wish I could say that I’m angry, frustrated, or sad. I felt grief in the hours after I learned about my father’s death. And right now, I feel nothing.
The church is packed. People are crammed into pews ad aisles, all of them cloaked in black, the air thick with the scent of lilies and polished wood. I’m seated at the front, my uncle on one side, my best friends on the other. There’s a crumpled tissue in my hand, but my eyes are dry.
I just feel numb.
The priest’s voice drifts over me, low and steady, talking about life and death and heaven and peace. I hear the words, but they don’t stick. They slide past me, meaningless and heavy.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103