Marcus stood there in the living room, with his heart beating like a maniac.
Patricia stood a couple of steps away, with her phone down and her back straight. The room was very tense, as though he could feel some kind of weight on his chest.
"So?" Marcus asked. You were speaking of a wedding.
Patricia looked at him very composedly. Like, too calm.
"Yes I was," she said.
Marcus frowned. "Whose wedding?"
Patricia did not reply immediately. She paused, as though she was preparing, and then uttered the words slowly and clearly.
"Ava's," Patricia replied.
The mention of her name was a ton of bricks to Marcus.
He looked at Patricia in the hope that she would make a joke, laugh, or something. But she stayed serious. "That's not funny," Marcus said.
Patricia's eyes hardened. "I'm not joking." Marcus shook his head at everything. "Ava isn't engaged."
She is going to be, Patricia answered. Behind his eyes, Marcus had a strange pressure that was building up. "With who?"
Patricia crossed her arms. "Mark."
The room kinda tilted.
Marcus took a step back. "No. That's not true right?"
Patricia interrupted him, "Ava is pregnant. And Mark's the dad."
Marcus lost his breath for a moment.
Pregnant.
The term rang in his ears, unnaturally loud.
"No, this can't be," he said.
Patricia frowned. "Mind your words."
Marcus tore his hair through his head, and his mind was racing. "I saw Ava yesterday. She was fine. She didn't say anything."
Patricia snorted "because she did not have to. It is not your business what is happening in her personal life."
Marcus looked at her in disbelief. "You are compelling her to marry him."
Patricia stepped closer. "I am ensuring that she is held accountable."
"At what cost?" Marcus asked quietly.
Patricia's jaw tightened. "I'm not arguing with you."
Marcus laughed bitterly. "Does she even want this?"
Patricia's eyes flashed. "Wants are irrelevant."
His stomach fell to her last note.
"Where's she?" he asked.
"In her room," Patricia replied. "And I tell you, keep your opinions to yourself," she warned
Marcus didn't talk. And walking down the stairs, his legs were heavy, chest tight.
Every step just felt wrong.
At the top of the stairs, Ava sat on the edge of her bed, looking at the wall. She had clasped her hands together, but they were trembling. She had heard the screaming down the stairs. She knew this was coming.
A knock sounded on her door.
Her heart skipped.
"Come in," she said softly.
The door opened.
Marcus stood there.
They said nothing to each other, both silent for a moment.
"Ava," Marcus said quietly.
She looked up. His face was pale. His eyes were darker than usual black.
"You know," he said. Ava swallowed. "My mom told you."
"Yeah," Marcus replied. "She did." And he entered fully and closed the door behind him. "You're pregnant," he said. "And you're marrying Mark."
Ava's shoulders tensed. "Yeah. Marcus stared at her face. She looked even smaller. Tired, fragile. "And when did you think you would tell me?" he asked. Ava looked down at her hands. "I didn't know how to." Marcus exhaled slowly. "Why him?"
"He's the dad," Ava said quickly. The lie burned her throat. Marcus looked into her eyes. "Are you sure?"Ava was about to say something, but then she nodded. "Yeah."
He looked away, jaw tight.
"You do not seem to be happy," Marcus said.
"I am just overwhelmed," Ava said.
That was queer, he said, though he was remote.
[Long silence.]
Marcus pulled himself up, trying to maintain his temper. "Then… congrats."
The word felt wrong.
Ava looked at him, surprised. "You mean that?"
He nodded stiffly. "If this is what you want."
She didn't answer.
Marcus continued, "I hope Mark will treat you well."
"He will," Ava said softly. More lying. Marcus moved toward the door. "If you ever need anything…"
His voice faded.
Ava nodded, and couldn't speak.
Marcus left the room.
He passed the hallway with his heavy heart and confused thoughts. None of this felt right. Ava's eyes. Her voice. The way she was unable to look at him for too long.
Patricia was in the kitchen, down the stairs.
"She agrees to the marriage," Marcus said flatly.
"Good," Patricia replied. "Then this is settled."
Marcus didn't reply. He seized his jacket and walked away.
Upstairs, Ava waited.
She could hear the front door shut.
Then she broke.
Tears fell silently. She put her hand on her mouth, trying not to make a noise. She shivered and embraced herself, as though that might keep it all in.
"Sorry," she whispered.
She again did not know to whom she was apologising.
At the foot of the stairs, Marcus halted.
Something pulled him back.
He turned slowly.
Ava's door was slightly open.
Through the gap, he saw her.
Saw her on the bed.
Saw her crying.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
But quietly.
As though a weak person who had nothing left.
Marcus's chest tightened.
She wasn't happy.
She wasn't ready.
But she was stuck.
He saw her brush the tears, attempting to control her breathing.
And at that instant, Marcus knew one terrifying fact
It was a marriage based on a broken relationship.
And whatever Ava was concealing, it was betraying her heart.