𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂

𝐈

"Why did my father do this to me?" I asked her.

"If he were here with us, I would ask him the same thing." She sighed and knelt down in front of me. "With Alexandra, you don't have to end it right away, but one day, yes. You can't be married and have someone else. At least try to get to know her. I heard that Antoinette is beautiful. Do it for Dad, so he can be proud of you up there."

I looked at her. "You don't understand, Mom. I can't love anyone else. I can't force myself to love her. In that marriage, we would both just suffer."

She took my hand and squeezed it. "At least give it a try. For a year. If nothing changes, you'll file for divorce."

In my thoughts, I wondered how to tell Alex about it. Oh God, what has my father gotten me into?

Mom went to get ready in the bathroom and left me alone in the kitchen. If my brothers were here, they would surely advise me on what to do, but both of them were away.

I ran my fingers through my hair. I took the keys to the car and took the elevator down to the garage where my Ferrari was parked. I got in and drove towards Alexandra's house.

Antoinette

We sat in silence at dinner at the Leclercs'. They used to live nearby, in a large apartment.

I looked around. The surroundings were modernly furnished, and on the walls hung beautiful paintings by famous artists. In the corner stood a huge display cabinet with large trophies and red jerseys.

"What are those trophies for?" I asked my future mother-in-law, Pascale Leclerc.

"Charles and Arthur race in Formula. Charles in F1 and Arthur most recently in F2," she replied.

"Wow," I nodded in acknowledgment. "If their father were here, he would be very proud."

"Yes, indeed." she replied.

Father cleared his throat loudly, interrupting our small talk. "Where's he?" he asked Pascale.

"I don't know, Jacques, I really don't. Don't worry, he'll be here soon, he probably just went out to get some air. Even I still can't believe what's happening right now," Pascale replied. "I found the documents about your agreement with Hervé just a week ago," she added and without further words, handed him two documents, with two signatures on each one.

"You don't have to show me, I know very well what is written on them. I'm just wondering why he didn't want to repay the money I borrowed from him. Why would he want my newborn daughter to marry his son, who was, by the way, eight years older than her at the time?"

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. "Excuse me, how old is he again?"

My future mother-in-law replied. "Charles will be twenty-seven in October."

My head spun. Eight years older! I still wished it was just a dream, just a bad nightmare that would end. But this was harsh reality.

Before I had a chance to learn more unpleasant information about my soon-to-be-fiancé, the doorbell rang. "That must be him," said Pascale. She got up from the chair and ran towards the door.

I heard whispering from the hallway. I lowered my head to the empty plate that layed on the table in front of me. I didn't want to see him. Surely, he will look old. He'll be unkempt, overweight (I have nothing against overweight people), and unbearable to be with.

I heard footsteps. He was getting closer and closer every second.

"Charles, this is Antoinette. Antoinette, this is Charles, my son," Pascale introduced us.

I slowly lifted my head and looked at Charles. I began to scrutinize his entire face.

His face sharp, with defined features. He had piercing blue-green eyes that exuded intensity and depth. His eyebrows, well-defined, framed his eyes with a sense of determination. His nose was straight and proportional, adding to his overall symmetry. Charles had a strong jawline, which gave his face a chiseled appearance, and his lips were set in a thoughtful expression. Overall, his face reflected a combination of confidence, focus, and a hint of youthful charm.

With a smile, he sat down at the table. I realized I was staring at him and averted my gaze. Charles said hi to my pére and started a small talk. Meanwhile, his mother began to bring food to the table. She cooked perhaps everything, from fish to pasta.

She poured expensive wine into our glasses and sat down. "Bon apétit," she said.

Charles

I just came back from Alexandra's. I entered the apartment, and my mom was waiting by the door. She nearly freaked out when she saw me. "You should cover it with concealer!" she pointed at the hickeys on my neck. I totally forgot about them. I quickly went into the bathroom, grabbed concealer from her makeup bag, and applied it to my neck. I was in the clear.

I didn't waste any time and entered the dining room. She was sitting there, staring at an empty plate. I smiled. I wondered how she had imagined me. Then she lifted her head, and our eyes met. Wow, she really was beautiful. She had long brown hair and unusually ordinary brown eyes, tanned skin...

I couldn't take my eyes off her. I grinned as she shyly averted her gaze.

I sat down at the table and started talking to her father. I remembered Jacques from my childhood. He used to come over often when visiting my dad. They were best friends since kindergarten. He always asked me about go-karts. And then, after Louis's death, he didn't come around for a long time. I don't blame him. His death shook me too. He showed up again a few years later. I was still a kid; I didn't remember the reason for his visit. But today it dawned on me. He wanted to repay my father the money, but he refused. Instead, he asked for... her.

When we finished our meal, my mother whispered to me. "Take her to the rooftop. Give her this." She handed me a small box under the table. I didn't even have to look at it; I knew it was the engagement ring.

"Mom, really? On the rooftop?" I asked her.

"The view from there is beautiful. And she'll love the ring. So, why not?"

I got up and approached Antoinette. "Do you have a moment?" I asked her.

She replied, "Of course."

We took the elevator up to the rooftop. I walked over to the glass railing and leaned on it. She didn't follow me. She seemed uneasy, somewhat apprehensive.

"Is everything okay?" I asked her.

"Yes, just... I'm afraid of heights," she admitted and sat on the bench nearby.

"You know, I'm really not comfortable with any of this. This whole engagement thing... but I'm doing it for my father. That's why I broke up with my girlfriend; we've been together since May last year. It wasn't easy."

"You don't have to complain to me. I don't mind if you want to have a lover. I can't force you to love me." she sighted.

"I want to get to know you. Maybe everything will turn out differently than we expect. Let's agree... let's give it a year. If our feelings for each other don't change for the better, we'll divorce and forget about everything. Your father will be satisfied, and mine won't be turning in his grave. What do you think?"

"Okay," she replied quietly.

Now or never. I approached her and knelt before her, as tradition dictates. From the pocket of my jeans, I pulled out a small box and opened it. "Antoinette Moreau, will you marry me?" I asked her. She wasn't particularly excited, but at least she pretended. "Yes," she said.

It was only now that I looked at the ring, which I had placed on her finger. My heart tightened. It was the engagement ring that my dad had given to my mom.

"Oh, by the way, you can call me Nettie. Antoinette is too formal." she added.

"Then Nettie it is..."

A/N: So, the first part is out. I hope it's not that bad, I'm really trying guys! I'll be updating the story regularly, even though I don't have much time due to school, but I'll manage somehow!