Once, my paranoid love

Approaching Mr. Obin, Robert simply called out his name, “Mr. Obin.” There was no need for formalities in this moment of crisis.

He greeted Robert with a respectful nod and a warm, though somber, smile. “Hello, Mr. Robert,” he said, his voice carrying a note of sympathy as he extended his hand in greeting.

“Where is Mr. Huston?” Robert asked, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting to see Mr. Huston arrive at any moment. But there was no sign of him, and the absence of Elena’s fiance on the day of their wedding was a conspicuous and troubling absence.

Obin hesitated for a moment, his expression betraying a hint of discomfort. “I’m sorry, Mr. Robert, but my boss is unable to attend,” he replied reluctantly.

Robert’s eyes widened in shock, and his voice rose with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “What? How could he do something like that on his wedding day?”

The news was like a blow to Robert, a twist in the already convoluted tale of Elena’s life. He had agreed to all of Mr. Huston’s terms, including the arranged marriage, despite his reservations. However, the one thing he hadn’t anticipated was Mr. Huston’s absence on the most important day of their lives.

“I agreed to all his terms, but I don’t think I can accept this, Mr. Obin,” Robert declared with a stern voice, his brows furrowing in deep concern. His frustration and disappointment simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

Obin, who had been grappling with the difficult news of Mr. Huston’s absence, turned his full attention to Robert. He could sense the gravity of the situation, the weight of a father’s love for his daughter, and the turmoil of emotions that accompanied it.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“Mr. D’Souza, what are you trying to say?” Obin asked.

Robert didn’t mince words. “I’m saying, what’s this sense of entitlement?” His voice carried a note of frustration, reflecting his bewilderment at Mr. Huston’s actions. He had agreed to the arranged marriage, hoping it would bring stability to Elena’s life, but Mr. Huston’s absence on their wedding day challenged his patience and understanding.

Robert’s sense of justice and fairness had been deeply offended. He couldn’t fathom how someone could treat a commitment as significant as marriage with such disregard. The principles of honor and responsibility, which Robert held dear, seemed to be absent in Mr. Huston’s actions.

With a determination that mirrored his protective instincts as a father, Robert made his stance clear. “Call him right now. Tell him that until he comes, this marriage will not take place.”

Obin’s eyes widened in shock, the weight of Robert’s words sinking in. He had expected Robert to be upset, but the decisiveness of this ultimatum was unexpected. “What?” he exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise.

Robert, his resolve unshaken, repeated his command. “Call Mr. Huston and make it clear that I won’t allow this marriage to proceed without his presence. If he’s truly committed to my daughter, he needs to show it.”

Obin hesitated, torn between his loyalty to his boss and the empathy he felt for Robert’s position. It was an unprecedented situation, and he knew that the repercussions of such a decision could be significant.

“Mr. D’Souza, do you know what you’re saying?” Obin asked, a sense of urgency and concern evident in his voice. He knew that Robert’s decision to halt the wedding until Mr. Huston’s arrival was a significant one, but it was no use of them because if he called his boos and informed everything, then his boss could stop the wedding.

Robert, his gaze unwavering, affirmed his stance. “It’s final, Mr. Obin.” His determination remained unshaken, a testament to his unwavering commitment to his daughter’s well-being.

As the conversation between Robert and Obin continued, the tension in the room seemed to thicken, with the weight of the decision hanging heavily in the air. The fate of Elena’s wedding, and perhaps her entire future, seemed to hang in the balance.

However, just as the gravity of the situation reached its peak, a sudden interruption occurred. Elena, whose presence was unexpected and unannounced, appeared in the room.

**

I entered the room and found my dad engaged in a heated argument with the man I had met earlier, Mr. Obin. Their voices clashed in a discordant symphony of disagreement. Confusion gripped me as I descended from the second floor, my heart racing with concern.

“What’s the matter? Dad, why are you yelling?” I inquired, my voice laced with worry. Their confrontation had erupted unexpectedly, and I yearned to understand the source of their dispute.

My dad, his face etched with stern resolve, turned to address me. His words, delivered in a tone that brooked no argument, struck me like a thunderbolt. “Elena, you don’t have to marry Mr. Huston.”

His proclamation sent shockwaves through me. Why was my father so vehemently opposed to my marriage to Mr. Huston, a union that had been arranged for reasons known to our family? The question swirled in my mind, leaving me bewildered and eager for an explanation.

Mr. Obin, sensing the need to clarify the situation, attempted to interject. “Okay, Mr. D’Souza, my boss is fine with it. Your wife and you were the ones-”

But I couldn’t allow him to continue without addressing my father’s concerns. Something didn’t add up, and I needed answers. With a composed demeanor, I halted Mr. Obin’s explanation, commanding his attention. “Mr. Obin, relax.”

This marriage had never been just about me. It was a lifeline, a chance to help my dad, to salvage our struggling family business, and most importantly, an opportunity to escape the haunting shadow of Paul. As I stood in that tense room, contemplating the whirlwind of emotions and decisions that had brought us to this moment, I knew that giving this proposal a second thought would be futile. After all, I had come to understand that Paul would never change and that his grip on my life would only tighten.

“Dad,” I began, taking a step closer and gently placing my hand in his. Our eyes locked, and in that silent exchange, a multitude of unspoken feelings passed between us.

“Dad,” I reiterated, my voice firm but filled with compassion, “I want to marry him, and it’s entirely my decision.”

My dad’s eyes softened and surprised him as he looked at me, his grip on my hand tightening briefly before he released it.

“Elena, but…” My dad started to speak, concern etched on his face, but his words were cut short by an unexpected arrival. Anne, whom I had come to regard as an unwelcome presence in our lives, descended the staircase from the second floor, her presence a dark cloud that seemed to loom over us.

“Hello, Mr. Obin,” Anne said with a smirk on her face, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Are you on your way to pick up Elena? But where is the groom? Isn’t he supposed to come pick her up?” She continued to taunt, her words laced with an unsettling amusement.

Anne’s sudden appearance and her mockery sent a ripple of tension through the room. It was as if she relished the opportunity to inject chaos into an already tumultuous situation. Her words were a reminder of the intricacies and complications that surrounded this marriage, and I couldn’t help but bristle at her insinuations.

I took a deep breath, my resolve unshaken despite Anne’s provocations. This marriage was a choice I had made for reasons that went beyond her understanding, and I was determined to see it through, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.

As Anne’s sarcastic remarks continued to pierce the air, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of frustration and irritation. It was abundantly clear that she relished the opportunity to revel in what she saw as a dramatic spectacle, and her thinly veiled disdain for this marriage grated on my nerves.

‘I’m sure you’ve been waiting for this. What a pathetic situation! You’ve just come downstairs to see the drama,’ I thought bitterly, resenting Anne’s intrusion and her apparent delight in our family’s predicament.

Mr. Obin, maintaining his professionalism in the face of Anne’s taunts, responded calmly, “Yes, Mrs. D’Souza, I’m here to pick up our ma’am. Our boss isn’t here because he’s too busy.”

Anne’s response was laced with a smirk, a cruel twist to her words. “Oh, I know he’s a busy man. But it’s still his marriage,” she remarked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Her satisfaction at Mr. Huston’s absence from our wedding day was unmistakable.

The tension in the room seemed to escalate with each passing moment. Anne’s presence and her unrelenting antagonism added another layer of complexity to an already fraught situation. It was as if she reveled in the opportunity to cast doubt and a shadow over our family’s decisions.

My thoughts, however, remained steadfast. This marriage was a choice made for reasons that transcended the understanding of others. Despite the obstacles and the unexpected twists of fate, I was committed to seeing it through for the sake of my family, our business, and, most importantly, my own future.