Jayden had barely stepped into the living room when her father's voice sliced through the air like a whip.
"Will you get your pretty self over here now, or is it only when I break your leg and bundle you up that you'll accept this marriage, you old spinster?" Mr. Cole's brows were already drawn tight, his voice rising with every word. "Your mates are at their husbands' homes with three kids, enjoying the beautiful bliss that comes with marriage. And it is only you, my old spinster, that I know who loves staying alone so badly! Don't you know once you reach thirty years, you'll be fully considered an old woman that's already passed her prime? No! No! Not with me I won't allow that for you!"
Jayden froze for a beat, her fingers curling around the strap of her handbag. He'd said those words before old spinster but they never failed to sting, even though she'd long taught herself to mask the hurt.
"Daaad…" she began, forcing a lightness into her tone that she didn't feel. "Dad, I really can't accept this marriage. I am still in my prime beautiful, hard-working, and diligent. I can provide for myself, and our family doesn't need to jump into some mysterious arranged marriage to climb any social ladder. We're already well-to-do here. At least to some extent."
Her father's lips pressed into a thin line. "You really know how to anger me, Jayden. Who told you it was a mysterious marriage? And where did you even come up with this nonsense about social standing? Don't you know I'm doing this for your own good? Do you really want to wait until you're thirty, pass your prime, and be an old, lonely woman? Do you really want people to mock me? Tell me—how did I raise you? I gave you the best education, taught you proper etiquette, gave you everything! Was it just so you could come here and spit this kind of foolishness at me? What else do you want? Tell me, I'll give it to you. Can't you just marry in peace?"
His voice had shifted from angry to almost pleading, but Jayden knew better this wasn't a question. It was a demand wrapped in sentiment.
"Dad…" She exhaled, fighting to keep her voice steady. "It's not about making you unhappy or disobeying you. I just… I'm not comfortable with an arranged marriage. The world is more civilised now. Who still practises those old traditions? Please, just give me time. I'll work on myself, and I promise I won't delay marriage forever. Just… not now. There are still things I want to enjoy with this single life of mine."
He shook his head, his expression hardening again. "That's just an excuse. What else do you want to enjoy at twenty-eight? Aren't you supposed to be happy there's still someone interested in you?"
"I am happy," Jayden said quickly, her voice catching slightly. "But doesn't it bother you that this man, this… mysterious husband candidate you picked, has apparently done his research on me and still wants to marry me? Dad, doesn't that make you curious about his motive? Shouldn't you be the first person to ask why?" She paused, hoping praying her words might chip away at his resolve. "Let's forget this topic. Nobody still practises arranged marriage in this age."
"You'll know him once you agree to this." Mr. Cole's tone was final now, every word a closing door. "And he's not a mysterious husband candidate. Just know that I won't accept a 'no' from you. I want nothing but a 'yes,' and that's final."
He stood, his chair scraping against the tiled floor, and began walking toward the stairs. Halfway up, he turned and fixed her with a look that was both sharp and unyielding. "Pick a convenient date to meet him so we can start preparing for both the court and traditional wedding. Enjoy the rest of your day."
Jayden let out a hollow laugh under her breath. "Enjoy the rest of my day… after you've just ruined it? How absurd," she muttered. Her father's footsteps faded upstairs, but her anger and confusion burned hotter.
She sank onto the couch, her mind racing. Either someone has bribed him… or he's gaining something from this. There's no other reason he'd go against me so stubbornly. She ran a hand over her face, willing herself not to cry. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. Not yet.