Our hidden wounds (#1)

one

Chapter one | Ekaterina
"No way," I repeat the words again, clutching my mother's hand tighter, she brushes a strand of my hair and her expression softens.

"It's okay, he probably just wants to talk." She says softly, the lie slipping through her mouth with ease from how many times she has said those words to me.

Truth is, the way my father demanded me to come to his office, and the tone he used, it didn't seem like he just wanted to talk.

I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down, going inside while I'm fucking freaking out is definitely not on my side.

It takes three knocks before he allows me to get in, my legs move automatically even as my mind races with hundred thoughts.

All of them ordering me to walk away.

"Katrina." My father's rough voice forces me to look upwards, his grey ash eyes meet mine and a spark of fear roams through me.

"Dad," I reply with a polite tone even when all I want to do is anything but.

"I need to talk to you about something important, take a seat." He says, his eyes holding mine as I sit.

"You've reached an old age, Katrina, and you're still not married, that's not acceptable whether you like it or not, we already discussed that before." He says and my heartbeats pick up at an insane pace.

I know exactly where this is going.

"I'm 21, dad, I'm not that old." The words slip out of my mouth before I can think of anything out of it, and that earns me a glare.

The lines of his cheekbones sharpen as his expression takes a dark path, "you're fucking old, you should've been married when you were 18." He says harshly as he pulls up his glasses.

I clench my fists so hard I'm sure I draw blood, however from my father's reaction, he doesn't notice, or more accurately, he doesn't care.

"I don't want to," I say through clenched teeth, I've lived my whole life trying to follow my father's rules, his paths, anything that would make him see me.

Truth is, that shit never worked, I sacrificed a ton of my time, thoughts, and effort in order to please him.

And what has that gotten me? Nothing but misery.

Surprise flashes across his face, before it morphs into something uglier, he snarls at me "what makes you think you have an opinion in it, girl?"

"They'll meet us tonight at an expensive restaurant, I need you to wear something fancy-" his words stop when his eyes roam all over my outfit.

"What the fuck are you even wearing? You're not a child." His words make my blood boil further as I scan down my clothes, I'm sure a pink tank top with grey pants isn't considered childish.

What the fuck is wrong with them?

"Never mind, your mother will handle that, now go away." He shouts and I clear my throat.

"At least tell me who I'm dressing up for," I say, letting out a breath as I stare blankly at my father.

The reply never comes and I take it as my sign to leave.

My mind is still processing everything that happened right now even as I stride out of his office and ignore every bodyguard's look that's burning a hole into my back.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

My mom caresses my shoulder as I brush my hair, the blonde strands falling down my shoulders in waves.