Forced Beginnings
The soft hum of a ceiling fan echoed through the cozy living room of the Reed household. The air was tense, not from the heat, but from the weight of unspoken expectations. Amelia Reed sat cross-legged on the couch, her eyes glued to the glowing screen of her laptop. Her fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, finalizing the event schedule for an upcoming corporate gala. The faint scent of lavender hung in the air — a calm contrast to the storm brewing in the room.
Across from her, Margaret Reed and Robert Reed sat with identical looks of determination. Margaret's sharp gaze followed Amelia's every move, while Robert leaned forward, his hands clasped together like a man about to deliver a sermon.
"Amelia," Margaret began, her voice smooth but firm, "do you hear me at all, or are you still pretending this conversation isn't happening?"
Amelia's fingers hovered over the keyboard. She exhaled slowly, lifted her eyes to meet her mother's, and closed the laptop with a soft click. "I heard you, Mom," she said, her tone steady but weary. "I just don't see why we need to have this conversation again."
"Because you're 28, Amelia," Margaret replied, eyes narrowing. "You're not a child anymore. You've spent the past four years pouring every ounce of your energy into this event planning business, and while that's admirable, it's time to face reality. A career isn't a family."
"Not this again," Amelia muttered, rubbing her temples.
"Yes, this again," Robert said, his deep voice cutting through the room like a judge delivering a verdict. "You're our only child, Amelia. We're not getting any younger, and we want to see you settled."
"Settled," Amelia repeated with a hollow laugh. "Is that what this is about? Marrying me off like a pawn on a chessboard so you can brag to your friends about having a 'married daughter'?" Her eyes darted between them. "I've told you both before — I don't need marriage to be happy. I have plans for my life, and none of them involve tying myself to a man."
Margaret's nostrils flared. "Stop being dramatic. This isn't about bragging rights. It's about stability, legacy, and building a future that lasts. Love doesn't come before responsibility, Amelia. It never has."
"Then maybe I don't want love or responsibility," Amelia shot back, crossing her arms. "I can adopt a child if I want a family. I don't need a husband for that."
Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating. Margaret glanced at Robert, and he nodded, his expression unreadable. Margaret leaned forward, her eyes sharper than ever.
"You don't have a choice this time, Amelia," Margaret said slowly, as though speaking to a stubborn child. "We've spoken with the Blake family. Their son, Ethan, is a good man from a respectable family. He runs his own business, and he's single. It's a perfect match."
Amelia's heart stopped. "You what?"
"We've arranged for you to meet him," Robert added, his voice unnervingly calm. "The Blakes share our values. Their son, Ethan, is hardworking, disciplined, and well-established. He'll make a fine husband."
Amelia blinked, certain she'd misheard. "You arranged for me to meet him? Like I'm some item on a checklist?"
"Don't be childish," Margaret scolded. "This is for your own good. We've seen how stubborn you can be, so we decided to step in before it's too late."
"Too late?" Amelia's voice rose. She uncrossed her arms and shot to her feet. "I'm 28, not 58! I'm not desperate for a husband. I'm doing fine on my own."
"Fine?" Margaret scoffed, rising to meet her daughter face-to-face. "Is that what you call being alone every night, burying yourself in your laptop until your eyes burn? Tell me, Amelia, when was the last time you went on a date? When was the last time you even thought about your future beyond this little business of yours?"
"That 'little business' pays my bills," Amelia shot back, her voice tight with barely restrained fury. "It gives me peace. It gives me purpose. Unlike this — this obsession you have with marriage."
"Peace won't keep you warm at night," Margaret said coldly.
"Neither will a husband I don't love," Amelia hissed.
Robert, who had remained quiet for most of the exchange, stood up slowly. His broad shoulders seemed larger than usual, his presence commanding attention. His deep, steady voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"That's enough," he said. Both women went quiet. He turned to Amelia, his eyes hard but not unkind. "You've always been strong-willed, and we've let you live life on your terms for a while now. But life isn't just about what you want, Amelia. Sometimes, it's about what's right for the family. And right now, what's right is this marriage."
Amelia's throat tightened. "So that's it, then? No choice. No freedom. Just duty."
Robert stepped closer, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes, freedom comes from sacrifice. You'll understand one day."
---
In her bedroom, Amelia collapsed onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The soft lavender scent of her pillow did little to soothe her frazzled nerves. She closed her eyes, replaying the conversation in her mind.
How had it come to this? She loved her parents, but their incessant meddling felt like a suffocating weight on her chest.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping her out of her thoughts. She reached for it, half-hoping it was a client needing her immediate attention. Instead, it was a text from Hannah Cole, her closest friend.
Hannah: How are you doing? Just checking up on you.
Amelia stared at the screen for a moment before typing back.
Amelia: I feel suffocated.
She dropped the phone onto the bed, not waiting for a reply. The conversation with her parents weighed heavily on her.
Meeting Ethan Blake? Her stomach twisted at the thought. She wasn't ready for this.
But readiness didn't seem to matter. Her parents were determined, and for now, all Amelia could do was brace herself for whatever came next.