SARAYA’S POV.
I opened my eyes and winced as pain shot through my head. It felt like my skull was splitting in two.
Groaning, I closed them again, but the pain didn’t subside. Slowly, I tried again, opening then gently and then I froze.
“Finally awake, are you?”
The voice made my eyes snap open. Sitting at the edge of my bed was Grandma, her arms crossed and her face tight with anger.
“Grandma?” I croaked, my throat dry. “How long have you been sitting there?” I asked, trying to shake off the grogginess and the eerie feeling of being watched.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed at the small table beside me. “Drink that.”
I turned my head slowly, spotting a glass filled with some golden liquid. “What is it?”
“Honey water,” she said, looking away.
On a good day, I would have laughed out loud. Such acts doesn’t suit my grandmother in any way. I stared at the glass, eyeing it suspiciously. “Why would you bring me a glass of honey water?”
“Because your head is pounding, isn’t it? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?”
Still, I hesitated.
She leaned forward slightly, her face hardening even more. “Whatever you think of me, Saraya, I’m not so petty as to poison my own granddaughter.”
I reached out for the glass reluctantly, my hand trembling slightly. “Its rare to see you act like mother Theresa so I figured you’d understand why I’d think twice,” I muttered, meeting her gaze with a flicker of defiance.
“I see you’ve still got your sharp tongue.” Her eyes softened just for a moment, so quick I might have imagined before the stern look on her face returned. “You think too much, girl, and not about the right things.” She stood abruptly. “Drink it. Then get dressed and when you’re done, come to my room, we need to talk.”
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, her long robes billowing behind her.
For the first time, I took a look at myself and I was in my pyjamas. “Who changed my clothes?” I wondered. “Don’t tell she did.” I shook my head at that thought.
I tried recalling the events from the previous night but my head hurts more and I stopped trying.
I stared at the glass. Whatever Grandma wanted to talk about, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like it. Taking a deep breath, I lifted the glass to my lips and drank.
The honey water was surprisingly soothing, easing the dryness in my throat and dulling the throbbing pain in my head. I set the empty glass down and took a moment to gather myself. Whatever Grandma wanted to talk about just be so serious.
After splashing some water on my face and throwing on a comfortable dress, I made my way to her room. Standing in front of her door, I hesitated.
Every conversation with Grandma felt like a battle, and today, I didn’t feel like fighting. Still, I knocked twice.
“Come in,” her voice rang out sharply.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Grandma was seated on her usual chair by the window.
“You’re late,” she said flatly without taking her eyes off the book she was reading.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “I came as soon as I can.”
She closed the book with a soft thud and placed it on the table beside her. “Time is of essence especially to business minded people.”
I sighed, not wanting to listen to her lecture with a throbbing headache. “What do you want, Grandma?”
She gestured to the chair opposite her. “Sit.”
Reluctantly, I obeyed, sinking into the plush chair. The silence stretched between us. Finally, she spoke.
“So without wasting each other’s time, tell me how it went yesterday with Arlan and Matilda.”
“It went well.” I replied, avoiding her gaze.
Grandma’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “You’re a terrible liar, dear.” She refuted. “Not after you came in heavily drunk last night.”
I looked away, my jaw tightening. “Why do you care? It’s my life.”
“Because you’re my granddaughter,” she said simply. “I won’t watch you ruin yourself over something that shouldn’t be in the first place.”
“So I’m the villainess?” I asked. “Because he is my father’s friend, I can’t be with him.”
“Yes, you can’t.” My grandmother affirmed. “Arlan has been your father’s best friend for over thirty years, way before you were born. You could consider them both brothers and what more? Matilda is carrying his child.”
“You don’t have to remind me grandma,” I stood on my feet. “If there is nothing more to talk about, I’d rather take my leave.”
“Don’t you dare think of walking out on me when I’m not done talking to you yet.” She snapped at me before throwing an envelope my way. “Open it.” She ordered.
I bent down and picked the envelope, opened it and it contained a picture and a reservation card.
“What is this about?” I asked, trying to not believe it is what I was thinking.
“I’m sure you’d it figured out, my dear Saraya.” My grandmother said in stern tone. “You should make time for Toby by the end of the day and meet with him. It’s the best way for you to get rid of your lustful and obsessive feelings for Arlan.”
“Lustful and obsessive feelings, you say?” I almost choked at her harsh words.
“You heard me, I didn’t stutter.” She added.
“Fine, but I’m not interested in your matchmaking games.” I retorted.
Grandma’s expression didn’t waver. “It’s not a game, Saraya. It’s a nudge in the right direction.”
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. “Well, thanks for the nudge, but I don’t need it.”
“Sit down,” she said, her voice low and commanding.
I hesitated but eventually sank back into the chair, glaring at her.
“You may not want to admit it, but you’ve lost, Saraya. Arlan can never be yours,” she continued. “And Toby, trust me, he is a good man. He might be exactly what you need to find yourself again.”
“Toby?” I scoffed. “You’re seriously pushing me to date some stranger you picked out of a catalog?”
“He’s not a stranger,” she said calmly. “He’s someone I trust. And whether you like it or not, this is happening. You have a dinner reservations tonight, and you will go.”
“No, I won’t,” I said firmly, standing again.
“You will,” she said, her voice had a deep of finality to it. “Or you’ll regret defying me.”
I turned on my heel, refusing to let her see the tears pricking my eyes. “You don’t get to control my life, Grandma.”
“And you don’t get to waste it,” she called after me as I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. “You should take the envelope with you.”
“I don’t need it.” I said defiantly without stopping.
I walked back to my room panting heavily and pacing.
I heard a soft knock on my door, forcing to stop on my tracks. “Who is it?” I asked angrily.
The door opened and it was Mary standing in front of me. “Easy, child.” She was holding the envelope I had left at grandma’s. “You sound very angry.”
“Did she ask you to bring the envelope to me?” I asked. “Then go tell her, I won’t let her dictate for me like she dictated to my father. I will choose my own partner.”
I paused and saw a sad look on Mary’s father. “Look, I have nothing against your marriage to my father but I can’t just grandma acting like a matchmaker.”
Mary sighed. “Still, you don’t have to go head to head with her. And if you ask me, I’ll tell you I agree with her.” She stretched the envelope towards me. “Your boyfriend doesn’t sound to me like he is committed to you and as a woman, you shouldn’t waste your time with him.”
I stared at Mary, my chest tightening. “You agree with her?” I repeated, my voice trembling with frustration.
“Yes, I do,” Mary said softly. “I see how much you’re hurting, Saraya, and I don’t want to see you waste any more of your heart on someone who doesn’t seem to care as much as you do, I watched you got in drunk last night, I had to cleaned you after you threw up on yourself.”
“You changed my clothes?”
She nodded, “I did.”
“But I don’t want to be with Toby. I don’t want to let someone else decide for me!”
“Then don’t,” Mary said, stepping closer, “but first meet with him and decide then.”
I stared down at the envelope in her outstretched hand. It felt like I was standing on the edge of some invisible cliff, torn between the urge to leap and the fear of falling.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to, but I knew she was right. My grandma wasn’t going to back down. Neither was I.
“Take the envelope, Sara.” Mary said again, quieter now. ”
I reached out and took the envelope from Mary’s hand. “Fine,” I said, the word tasting bitter in my mouth. “I’ll go. But only because you’re asking, not because of her.”
Mary smiled brightly as she pulled me into a hug. “Everything will be fine, you’d see.”
I pulled back a bit and looked into her eyes. “Thank you, mother.” And went in for another round of hug.