CHAPTER 13- MARRY HER, MR. WOODWORDS

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***Aaron's POV***

******A Week Earlier******

As I drove to my father's house my mind was shrouded by the thoughts of the girl I had met only moments ago. Caroline Marshall. I had spent the whole morning and a major part of the evening with her and hoped that she would finally free me from her thoughts but it seemed it was not going to happen.

The more time I spent with her, the more I got to know her, the more interested I was in her. This was not right. No one should have that much power. Especially not someone who was the daughter of the man whom I hated with everything in me.

A part of me knew that she was different from them, but another part of me—a more logical one—warned me of my growing feelings for her. The women in my life have come and gone. Even with their constant attempts of trying to hook me, no one has ever even come close to capturing my attention for longer than I intended to. Then, came Caroline.

I wanted her like no other. I craved her and yet, after that first date, I had been the one to pull back. I wanted to take things slow with her—another first for me. I wished to get to know her better before I made a move. Because I doubted once I did, there would be any turning back.

I parked my car outside dad's mansion and walked inside. It was a remote area, almost at the outskirts of the city. My father being the social creature he was, hated to be at a place like this. It was for my mother's love of a quiet living that had forced him to buy this mansion and settle here. And it was only for my mother's memory after her death that he had decided to never leave their home.

The housekeeper greeted me with a pleasant smile and informed me of my father waiting in his home office. I made my way to him with steady steps. I never had a normal father-son relationship with him. My mother had always been the glue binding us together. After she was gone, so was the connection with my father.

"Why is it always so hard to get you to visit me?" My father said, as soon as I walked into his office. His tone was almost mechanical.

"Maybe you don't try hard enough."

He was sitting behind his desk, going through some papers which he kept aside and got up. Gesturing towards the set of couches on the right for me to sit, he moved to the little bar at the other corner. He picked up a bottle of scotch and two glasses, then came to sit with me.

"How have you been, son?" He asked with a smile. I almost scoffed at that question.

My father gave zero fucks about me. The fact that he was interested in my well-being, instead of confronting me for whatever it was this time around, made me suspicious of his behavior. There was definitely something up with him. It was only a matter of time till he shed off his being nice persona and became the man I always knew him to be.

"I'm driving," I said, watching him pour the scotch in the glasses. He filled both the glasses anyway and slid one of them to me.

"You don't have to," said my father. Obviously, he didn't know that driving was one of my relaxations.

"Get to the point. Why am I here?" The last time he asked me to visit him was almost half a year ago. It was for a business deal that he was facing trouble with.

"Never was one to have heartfelt conversations," he commented, taking a sip of his scotch.

"I'd say it's because of your teaching or rather the lack of." I reached for my glass of scotch. The way this conversation was going, I doubted if I could go through it without being totally hammered.

My father chuckled to himself. "Did you find a bride for yourself yet?" He asked, observing me to assess my mood.

I rolled my eyes at the question. This had been one of his questions the last time I visited him, which had led to a serious argument. Never being the father figure for me, he had no right to involve himself in my life now. Especially, not when it included forcing me to do something I was not ready for yet.

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