05 | painting pretty pictures

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What is the true premise of marriage?

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What is the true premise of marriage?

Apparently it's the peak of all love stories. The holy matrimony of two souls to conjoin their hearts always and forever. As a kid who loved fairy tales, weddings were a happy ending. But as an adult who had officially passed a week of being engaged, those weddings seemed to be my worst nightmare.

I can't even begin to count the seconds I had wasted reliving the night as if it were some ethereal complex that I had painted red. How every decision I had made then had been nothing more than just a dubitable take on a cracking relationship. A relationship that's practically held by two ivy vines ready to break. It isn't him that's the problem, it's me. I had made a rash and dubious decision without thinking about the repercussions. My mindless consideration of his embarrassment has probably caused him his consideration of a broken heart.

Perhaps me suggesting we don't tell anyone from our families yet would give me enough time to actually come up with the plan.

A plan for what? One might ask. A plan to let him down slowly.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how long we'd spent in movie theatres and town centres, it wouldn't differ the fact that I don't want to marry him. But nor do I want to hurt him.

I swiped the marble pen holder and hurled it across the room, just missing the window. With a shaky breath, I lay my hand back down and puffed my cheeks; fighting a losing game with my tears.

All this time I call him the man I loved when in reality, he is the man I fear now.

When did life get so hard?

I hear my door creak and I lift my chin up high-mama said never let someone else see you cry right?

"Uh ma'am?"

"Yes, Leah?" I cleared my throat, pretending to have been busy the whole time.

"There's someone downstairs and he's kinda been there for hours now, even Levi completely lost ideas and he was hoping you could be a little wiser and since it's an hour before closing time he-"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of Leo," I say, assuming it's him because who else would be here at this point in time. My only concern is Leah's adamance to talk about him like she doesn't know him.

"My apologies ma'am but um, it's not Leo." She said, looking down on her ipad; I looked at her curiously. "It's a client? He's been here trying to pitch an arrangement with Levi and like two other people. Don't get me wrong, he's charming and all but he just can't get this idea in his head. He doesn't even know which flowers he wants."

Great. A stubborn customer. Exactly what I needed in regards to the current situation.

I exhaled, feeling my body reject any form of work coming my way. But still, it's my job and personal issues should be just that-personal.

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