What We Do To Survive

My goose was cooked and the only way I saw to fix it was to flee. I had left an unintended storm behind and only hoped that peace would prevail, if it even could.

I never intended to fall in love with my assigned driver, but an arranged marriage where money exchanged hands did not hold feelings. He was a cold man who only dealt in business arrangements and acquisitions of possessions that he could flaunt to his wealthy friends.

A soft, kind listener who showed empathy for my predicament had quietly stolen my heart as he drove me to the different places that I was expected to appear at daily.

It surprised me to find out that they were related because he treated his flesh and blood like a lowly servant – even worse.

My intended’s anger had shocked me as I didn’t think he cared – I was right. It was not me that he cared about, but his reputation and image. He had ordered me locked away until the wedding. For the minute I was left alone I headed out the door instead of down the aisle, my getaway chauffer waiting.

Unfortunately, I had to leave him too. He’d never be safe with me, we’d be hunted. There needed to be a show of power, I just hoped his focus would remain on me and he would see his brother’s return as loyalty. Although we knew it was merely for survival.

by Debbie Gravett © 2019.06.09

FFFC: Challenge #16
Image by Christine Engelhardt from Pixabay

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