A Contract of Love
Victoria sat at the grand oak table, wedding magazines scattered in every direction. Delicate, glossy pages slipped through her fingers as she flipped eagerly from one spread to the next. Her eyes illuminated with delight at the sight of intricate details: lace overlays, delicate embroidery, tumbling veils. She lingered over luminous gowns, conjuring visions of herself swept up in gossamer tulle. A warmth blossomed in her chest, a gentle anticipation tickling her heartVictoria could almost taste the moment she’d walk down the aisle, every gaze fixed on her, her familys eyes shining with emotion.
Beautiful she murmured, still transfixed by a particularly striking dressfull skirt, slender straps, the fabric shimmering silvery-white under staged studio lighting, as if woven of pure fantasy.
But almost instantly, her smile faded. With a sigh, Victoria placed the magazine aside and rose thoughtfully. Slowly, she wandered to the tall mirror ensconced in its ornate frame. She scrutinized her reflection, turning sideways, tilting her head, searching for the shape others might see. The glossy ideals flickering behind her eyes struggled to align with reality.
Thats never going to work for me, she said at last, her voice firmer, as though steeling herself to accept the inevitable. My figure just isnt that.
She twirled again, imagining herself encased in layers of tulle, the sweeping skirt overwhelming rather than enchanting. A mental sketch flashed through her mind: billowing skirts, a cinched bodice, endless fabric and she grimaced.
I need something simpler, she reasoned out loud, as if an invisible confidante sat beside her. I cant do those enormous dressesI’d look twice my size. But I want it to be special! After all, Im not exactly getting married every day, am I?
Victoria worried a hand through her hair, panic pricking just beneath her skin. So many beautiful visions, yet none seemed quite right. She eyed the magazines, scattered about as if one might finally offer a flash of inspiration. Instead, a wave of fatigue and confusion threatened to wash her away.
I need someones adviceurgently, she muttered, perching on the edge of the chair. Before I lose my mind over this whole wedding madness.
A sharp crack shattered the quiet, jolting Victoria to her feet. Her gaze sprang away from the spilled sketches and magazine pages, heart thudding painfully. Who could that be at this hour? The only people with keys were her father and Simon, her fiancé. Both were meant to be busyher father in a lunch meeting, Simon at the office, preparing for that big afternoon conference.
Still, a chill danced down Victorias spine. She hesitated, barely daring to breathe, dread spinning frantic stories in her mind. What if it was an intruder? She was usually at her beauty studio at this timenobody should be home.
Victoria crept from the table, light-footed, careful not to make a sound. Instinct carried her to the staircase, where she could peer through the bannister into the entryway. Hidden just out of sight behind the living room wall, she could see the front door swing open
relief flooding through her. There stood Simon. His familiar silhouette eased her fears; he was toeing off his shoes, carelessly kicking them onto the rack, whistling something under his breath.
Simon? she whispered in confusion. Hes meant to be at work
As she watched, she realized he was on the phone.
Darling, just bear with me a little longer, Simons tone was uncharacteristically gentlealmost loving. Victoria frozehe never spoke to her that way. Soon enough, Ill have fulfilled my side of the deal, and we can be together. Just six more months, I promise.
A creeping coldness took hold inside Victoria. Breath paused, she dug her nails into her palm, anything to keep silent. Deal? Who was this darling?
How much longer must I wait? Simons tone hardened, businesslike. One more month until the wedding, then a few blissful months of married life… His voice trembled, a strange disgust twisting his words as if hed bitten into something foul.
Victoria clenched her eyes shut as she absorbed it. The wedding*their* weddingjust part of some agreement?
And as for Richard Harrington, I couldnt care less what he plans next, Simons voice was growing confident, almost callously free. As soon as the rest of the payment lands in my account, Ill pack up my things and Im gone.
The last words hit like a slap. Victoria almost collapsed, catching herself against the door frame. One thought pounded in her skull: He lied. He lied this entire time.
Pain and betrayal tore through her. Her father was involvedsome contract, some payment, some six-month plan. The puzzle pieces fell together, forming a horrifying picture; she pressed her fist to her chest to stifle a cry.
But, even battered, Victoria made herself listen. She needed to know everything. Just a little more.
Simon flopped into an armchair, stretching his legs, chatting away without a hint of caution, convinced the house was empty.
Why are you so worked up? he crooned, shaking his head in faux affection. Youre the only one I love, darling! This whole act is just for you. Think of ita spacious flat in the city, expensive clothes, jewellery… How else could I afford all that as a mere office assistant? Just six months, I swear, and well finally have it all.
And then, from the staircase, Victoria made herself known, descending step by slow, painful step. Her legs nearly buckled, but her spine stayed tall; she would not fall, not now.
No, youll be together much sooner than that, she said in a low, resolute voice.
Simon scrambled upright, fear flashing over his features, the phone falling to the floor with a dull slap.
Tori? he stammered, rising with confusion and dread. Whatwhat are you talking about?
He stepped forwards, reaching a hand as if to comfort herhabit, muscle memory. But Victoria shrank away, chin high, her gaze icy and clear. No more gentleness. No more trust.
Tori she repeated in a raw whisper, every syllable laced with heartbreak. Did you really think I was deaf? That I didnt hear all of it?
She faced him, insides trembling but outwardly calm, searching his eyes for some flicker of remorsefinding there only panic, the desperate beginnings of a lie.
This darling should I know her? Is that the girl you told me was your sister? Victorias voice was measured, but a razor of accusation sliced through every word.
Simon went pale, desperately snatching up the dropped phone as if it could shield him from her anger. His mind spun wildly, frantic for an escapefor the sake of all that promised money.
Youve got it twisted, he finally managed, voice forced into calm. What darling? I I dont know what youre talking about.
He inched closer, tried to take her hand, but Victoria recoiled with finality.
No, you do, she said bitterly, her mirthless smile twisted. I heard it all. The way you cooed and beggeddisgusting!
She swallowed, fighting to keep her voice steady. She would not show him the depth of her hurt. All those dreams, the warm memories, plans for a future togetherall exposed as a cheap charade. She was just the fool on centre stage.
Simon said nothing. He realised there was no point pretending. Hed let his guard down and shed caught him in the act. Admitting the truth was a far more terrifying prospect, but some faint hope lingered that he might still wriggle out, smooth things over.
There isnt going to be a wedding, Victoria said, cold and final. Colour drained from Simons face. But before I throw you out of my life, I want the whole truth. No lies. No excuses.
Her voice didnt tremble, even though pain screamed inside her. Arms folded across her chest in self-protection, her stare was clear, determined to rip away the last tattered shreds of deception.
The truth? he sneered bitterly. No further need for masks, for false affection. You want the truth? Fine. Id never have looked at you if your father hadnt pitched his little arrangement. I play doting fiancé, take you out, spout compliments, and in return, I get an easy job, some decent perks. Double salary, so to speak.
His words were cold, mundane, as if describing a trip to Tesco or an afternoon meeting. But for Victoria, each one was a nail hammered into the coffin of her illusions.
So it was all for the money? she breathed, numbness creeping in. Her voice cracked, but she made herself meet his gaze.
You honestly thought someone could fancy you for your looks? Simon gave a cruel laughnothing left of the man she thought she knew. Take a good look at yourself in that mirror. Go on.
The words burned worse than she imagined they could. The pressure in her throat swelled, her eyes stinging, but she forced back any tears. Clenched fists drove fingernails into her palmsher only defence against crumbling.
For long seconds, she watched him in silence, trying to process the final blow. The world dulled, colours leached out; their dates, the talks, shared dreamsrevealed as props in a pitiful fraud.
Get out! Victorias voice rang clear and hardstartling even herself. Ill have your things sent round. Just get out.
Simons sneer lingered as he took her in one last timesizing her up, relishing her pain, revelling in his own twisted sense of triumph. He turned with deliberate slowness, putting on his jacket as if to prove nothing could touch him. With a click of the latch he was gone, leaving Victoria in the resounding void.
As the door slammed, Simons own bravado faltered. Anxious thoughts whipped around his headhow would Richard Harrington react? Her father was a hard man, unforgiving of betrayal, especially where his daughter was concerned. Simons gut twisted; he cursed himself for ever agreeing to this brilliant plan, but the thought of that handsome suma stash of pounds already in his accountoffered some reassurance.
At least it wasnt for nothing, he muttered, stepping out onto the street. And no ones taking that money back from me. Ive earned it!
Back in the now silent flat, Victorias hands shook uncontrollably. She dialled her fathers number, fumbling with the keypad, heart battering in her throat.
Dad! she shouted, her voice cracking as Richard picked up. How could you? How could you do this to me?
She gave him no chance to interrupt, her words tumbling out, choppy and furious:
You set up the whole thing! You hired him, paid him, made him act like my fiancé! You never even asked me what I wanted! You thought you knew better!
Her voice wrenched and rose, spilling months of pain, outrage, betrayal.
I trusted you! I thought he I thought he loved me! But it was all just a game! You turned my life into a farce!
Richard began to speak, numb with confusion, but Victoria didnt let him finish.
Never again! Never, ever meddle in my life! Do you hear? Never again!
She jabbed at the red button and hurled the phone at the sofa. Then at last she gave in, crumpling onto the cushions and sobbinggreat shuddering gulps, tears streaming unchecked. She buried her face in her hands, small and wounded as a child betrayed by her most beloved.
Her tears werent only for Simon. Years of self-doubt, anxieties, and uncertainties crashed down, threatening to drown her. Victoria had always struggled with her appearancestanding before the mirror, picking at every imagined flaw. “If only I had a tiny waist curvier hips”, she’d thought, plagued by the gulf between glossy magazine ideals and her own reality. Shed daydreamed about how surgery might fix things, but every time the idea crossed her mind, her thoughts would tangle with memories of her mother.
Her motheralways called herself Isabelle, a touch of glamour in every syllable. Isabelle, once renowned for her beauty: striking features, thick hair, a special grace that made heads turn. Her mothers laughter, her elegance, were the glowing centre of Victorias childhood.
Everything changed when Isabelle, encouraged by friends glowing recommendations, sought a certain brilliant cosmetic surgeon to adjust the shape of her nosejust a tweak. The operation went horribly wrong; what was meant to be a tiny correction became a permanent, irreversible flaw. In desperation, Isabelle chased second, even third and fourth opinions, draining savings, enduring surgery after surgery, but things only worsened.
Bit by bit, happiness evaporated. Isabelle stopped looking in mirrors, withdrew into scarves and wide-brimmed hats, overwhelmed by shame and melancholy. Sunlight faded from the house; the days became stratified with gloomdawns heavy stare, daylight spent hiding, evenings consumed by silent regret.
Then she disappeared completely. No explanation, no farewell. Just a short note for Richard: I cant do this anymore. Im sorry. And thennothing.
Victoria grew up tracing her fingers along the edges of old photographs, eyes drawn to the radiant Isabelle shed never truly known. But the real Isabellethe woman her mother becamefelt unreachable. The divide between the sunshine of those memories and the sombre shadow left behind grew sharper with every year.
She measured herself against her absent mother, always falling short. Her cheekbones were perfection; all I have are round cheeks, she’d mutter, surveying her reflection. Her hair just never shone the same. She catalogued each flawthe nose too pronounced, the lips too thin, the hips too unremarkable. If others complimented her, Victoria dismissed it. She believed herself a pale imitation, a not-quite inheritor of Isabelle’s elusive beauty.
Her insecurities bled into every part of life: she faded at school, unwilling to draw stares, at university, she avoided the spotlight, terrified someone would see straight through her. In her love life matters were worse. Few men noticed her; even fewer lingered. Victoria blamed her looksnever realising her own self-doubt was what pushed them away.
If I were prettier, everything would be different, she would convince herself over and over, descending deeper into the pit, oblivious to the fact that her own shrinking confidence, rather than her features, was the real barrier.
And then along came Simonbright and warm, chasing away the shadows. He made her feel special, his compliments always specificpraising her smile, her laughter, her compassion. He took her to lovely little cafés, brought her flowers for no reason, treasured her smallest confidences.
With him, for the first time in forever, Victoria felt almost beautifulnot perfect, like in magazines, not even like her mother, but enough. Enough to deserve happiness, to be cherished, to be herself. She began to believe, just a little, that she was worth loving. The more time she gave to Simon, the more she trusted her heart was safe with him.
But now it all lay in ruins. Simon never loved her. The romance was a cruel illusion, carefully staged. Worse still, her father was behind ither father, whod claimed to always put her happiness first.
*****************************
Victoria stood before the fitting room mirror, bridal gown swirling delicately around her. There was no fluttery delight in her chest, but something steadiera calm self-assurance, strange and new. The dress hugged her shoulders, lines clean and dignified, the skirt falling in gentle, graceful folds. Lace sleeves played with the light, shadows chasing across her arms.
She searched her reflectionnot for faults, but for herself. No more measuring, no more criticism. Today, she was enough.
An hour later, Victoria moved down the aisle, poised and unwavering, between rows of guests. Head high, spine straight, every step deliberatea clear, shining spirit in her eyes. No dreamy haze like the typical bride; her resolve glowed. She noticed the admiring gazes, the whispers, the curiosityshe was not the weeping heroine, but something else, something stronger.
She remembered the conversation with her father, weeks earlier.
Dad, Ive decided to accept Adams proposal, shed announced over coffee, her tone leaving no room for debate.
Richard froze, startled by her conviction. Are you sure, dear? Its a big commitment.
I am sure, Victoria replied with certainty. Im done waiting for a love that may never come. I want stabilityrespect, a proper partnership. Adam can give me that.
But love Richard started.
Love is wonderful, Victoria interrupted, but Im tired of hoping for miracles. Im going to shape my own life now.
Now, as she walked to meet Adam, his hands tremoured with nerves but his eyes stayed loyal. There was no wild passion in themjust honest regard and a reassuring trust, something Victoria now valued far more.
As the registrar began her formal words, Victoria found herself at peace. No regrets. This wasnt a fairytale, but her own measured choiceadult, reasoned, free.
Yes, perhaps Adam will never be madly in love with me, she thought, meeting his gaze, but he will respect me. Maybe, in time perhaps we will find our own kind of love.
These thoughts steadied her. She smiled at Adam, not for a photograph or for the crowd, but for himfor herself. For the first time in years, she felt she was taking a real, right step.
Love isnt always thunder; sometimes, its the firm earth beneath your feetsolid ground, where something strong and true can finally grow. Their story was only beginningnot with blazing passion, but with a conscious promise and hope for something real.
