Forgive me and love me again

The Offer

Megan

"Father! Please, I don't want to do this. Why are you doing this? Jordan is completely out of control, and I don't want to marry him. Why are you forcing me to do this?" I lit a cigarette in an attempt to calm my nerves; my father despised my smoking, but I believed I had the right to make my own decisions. Now, not only did he want to stop me from smoking, but he also insisted on me getting married.

"Put out that cigarette, Megan!" My father urged me firmly. I stood up and exhaled smoke towards his face, defiantly.

"What if I don't, Dad?" My father's gaze filled with fury. Unexpectedly, he slapped me, causing my cigarette to fall to the ground. Tears welled up involuntarily; the blow hurt not only physically but also emotionally. Never before in my twenty-three years of life had I received a slap from him.

"You're disobedient, Megan! I'm tired of your wrong decisions. Dorian keeps you employed as Jordan's assistant out of sheer compassion for us. And now, when an important opportunity arises, you choose to act this way. What happened to the money you earned?"

"You hit me, Dad! I don't think I can ever forgive you," I yelled through tears and pain.

"I admit it was wrong, but I can no longer tolerate your rebellious behavior, your slip-ups, and, above all, your lack of interest in your own future. Well then, go and find that worthless boyfriend of yours. The one who only takes your money from you," my father was speaking to me like he had never before, and though it tore me apart inside, I wouldn't allow him to treat me this way.

"I'm leaving this house, Dad. I won't come back ever again," I stormed off to my room. Since my mother's death when I was only 8 years old, we had been living in extreme poverty. Our surroundings were filled with antique furniture and unpaid bills. My mother had been my only companion, and after her departure, I had practically raised myself under my father's constant work, who had never considered remarrying.

Three years ago, Harry burst into my life, bringing with him an explosion of color and joy that revitalized my existence. However, now my own father was willing to separate me from the only source of happiness I had ever known, all with the absurd intention of marrying me off to the unfamiliar and unpleasant boss that was Jordan Frederick. After over five years working in his garden, he had never paid any attention to my existence.

I filled an old suitcase with my meager possessions, determined to leave. I had no doubt that Harry would take me in. I could no longer bear my father and his absurd rules, and I was ready to quit my job at the Frederick mansion; that place was not suitable for someone like me.

My father was sitting in front of the television, holding a coffee cup. I wanted to see his reaction when I left, but he didn't even look at me. Without further ado, I opened the door, determined to leave, when suddenly I heard his words.

"Megan, if you walk out that door, never come back. This house deserves respect. I won't allow you to come and go as you please."

"You won't manipulate me, Carlos. You've kept me a prisoner within these four walls my whole life. I'm leaving with Harry; he's a real man."

With a resounding slam, I closed the door behind me, not giving my father a chance to respond. I swallowed the lump in my throat and hailed a taxi. Minutes later, I stood in front of Harry's trailer, where, as usual, he was drinking with some friends. His face changed completely when he saw me; it was evident that he was furious.

I approached him with a smile, trying to dissipate his anger, but he stood up abruptly and grabbed my arm.

"What are you doing here, Megan? You're making me look like a fool."

"Harry, what do you mean, a fool? We've been together for three years; I'm going through a tough time. My father kicked me out of the house, and I have nowhere to go. I need you to take me in."

"Are you an idiot or what?! There's no room for you in the trailer; three people live there. It's not possible," Harry exclaimed with exasperation. I didn't understand his reaction; I had done everything I could for him, and at that moment, I needed his support more than ever, but he was simply rejecting me.