Our home had everything one could ask for. After completing my graduation, I briefly worked at a nearby school, but the comfort of staying home was too tempting, so I quit. Back then, the TV only started broadcasting at 5 PM. Without a hobby or someone to talk to, the walls seemed to close in. In such moments, girls often turn to the outside world and make mistakes. I was, after all, a pampered child. My friends were all working, but I was my parents' precious gem, spending my days buried in books. My brother had his own world, my father was busy with his thriving business, and my mother was in love with her kitchen duties. So, what was I to do? We had a phone at home, and it became my pastime. I’d call friends or sometimes dial random numbers just for fun.
One day, the phone rang. I picked it up and said, “Hello.” A voice replied, “Hey, how are you? What’s up?” His casual tone annoyed me because I only spoke to girls on wrong numbers and hung up if a guy answered. Sensing my irritation, he said, “You’re upset for no reason. I was calling my brother’s house, and your voice sounded like my niece’s. I thought it was her. Please forgive me.” His apologetic tone made me feel embarrassed. “Alright,” I said, “I thought you were some cheeky guy. Mistakes happen. I’ll hang up, and don’t call again.” He replied, “Wait, don’t hang up! Do you want my family tree or something?” I laughed and said, “Just tell me your name and what you do.” “I’m Nathan, and I’m a lowly clerk at the telephone department,” he said. “Telephone department? Then you can connect calls!” I exclaimed. “Sure, do you need to call someone?” he asked. “Yes, my friend Sarah lives in another city. She used to study with me in college, but her father got transferred, so she moved.” Back then, long-distance calls had to be booked and took ages to connect. I gave him her number, and he said, “Oh, that’s my cousin Fiona’s number! Her family moved from here to there.” “That’s perfect!” I said, delighted. “Fiona was my best friend in college. This will make talking to her so much easier.”
That’s how my conversations with Nathan began. Whenever I wanted to talk to Fiona, I’d call him, and he’d connect us. He was a decent guy, never saying anything inappropriate. His words were impressive, and I found myself drawn to him. One day, I thought, why not introduce him to my parents? I didn’t want them to find out later and get upset. I told my mom I wanted to invite Fiona’s cousin over for tea, with her permission, so we could meet him. She agreed, and Nathan came over. He chatted with my mom, and when my brother Mike arrived, he didn’t pay much attention since Mom was there. My younger brother, Matt, who often called friends in other cities, thought Nathan could help him connect calls faster. So, Matt befriended Nathan, and soon Nathan was a regular visitor at our house. Everyone liked him; he was polite, and my parents treated him like a son. Sometimes Matt invited him for dinner, and long-distance calls became easier for us.
One day, I learned Fiona was visiting her aunt in our city. It was my birthday the next day, so I invited her to my party, and Matt invited Nathan. At the party, Fiona was thrilled to see her cousin Nathan and said, “Zoe, you’ve made a great choice. My cousin is a kind and honest guy.” Nathan gave me a wonderful set of books as a gift, which everyone admired. After the party, he left with Fiona.
A year passed. Days without talking to Nathan felt empty, like I was incomplete without him. My restlessness grew; I couldn’t sleep at night, and my days were restless. I started fearing my own feelings. When the phone rang, the wait was agonizing, but my heart raced with both excitement and fear. Nathan felt the same, and then the inevitable happened. Ignoring all fears and societal norms, we started meeting secretly. I’d make excuses to leave the house and meet him at a park or a nearby café. One day, I told my mom I was going to Sarah’s birthday party and that she’d drop me home. My parents trusted me, and my brother didn’t object because of them. But I wasn’t at Sarah’s—I was meeting Nathan at a park. It was quiet, and we sat on a bench, talking carefree, unaware that this meeting would bring trouble. By chance, my brother Mike was there with his friends and saw us. He didn’t say anything then but went home and asked Mom where I was. She said I was at Sarah’s party. Mike waited silently for me.
When I got home, Mom said Mike had been pacing in the veranda, waiting for me. “Where were you?” he demanded. “At Sarah’s party,” I said. “Then who was sitting with Nathan in the park?” he shot back. My world crumbled, and I burst into tears. Mom took me to her room and said, “Tell me the truth. I’m your mother; I’ll stand by you. But if you hide things, you’ll face the consequences.” I decided to confess. “Mom, I love Nathan. Please help us. We want to marry.” She stared at me, shocked. “Are you out of your mind? That clerk? Your engagement is already fixed with a respectable family. Don’t you care about your future or our honor?” She tried reasoning with me, but I was too far gone, crying and unable to think clearly. That night, I called Nathan and told him everything. He said, “We can’t bear this separation. I’m already engaged to my cousin, but I refused for you, and my family knows I want you as my life partner.”
When I didn’t budge, Mom told Dad I wanted to marry Nathan, a clerk. Dad was furious, but Mom calmed him, saying, “She’s our daughter; don’t lose your temper.” Dad tried reasoning with me. “Zoe, his culture and background don’t match ours. We’ve chosen a match where you’ll be happier.” But I was beyond reasoning, determined to walk the thorny path of love. Dad warned, “Nathan is poor; he can’t meet your needs.” I didn’t care, insisting I’d marry Nathan or not marry at all. Seeing my state, my parents relented and called Nathan over. They said, “We trusted you, treated you like a son because we thought you were decent. But you’ve misused our trust. Step back and let Zoe have a better future.” Nathan sat silently, unmoved. My mom pleaded, “For God’s sake, our honor is in your hands. Step aside, or we’ll face ruin. Take whatever money you want, but Zoe is engaged.” Nathan finally spoke, “I’m not so selfish as to marry Zoe against your wishes at this age. You trusted me, which is rare. If you’re honorable, so am I. I won’t stand in Zoe’s way.” As he left, Dad gave him an envelope, saying to open it at home. It contained a check for a large sum.
At home, Nathan opened the envelope and felt hurt but kept the check. The next day, he called me, saying, “I can’t marry you. I can’t abandon my fiancée; it would ruin my sister’s home. It’s an arranged exchange marriage, and I’m too poor to fight legal battles. You’ve grown up in wealth; you don’t know poverty’s pain. You wouldn’t be happy with me.” My parents set my wedding date. With Nathan’s refusal and not wanting to defy my parents further, I accepted my fate. Matt gave Nathan a wedding invitation, insisting he attend. Nathan came with Fiona, gave me books and an envelope, congratulated me, and left. I held back tears and gave the envelope to my sister.
After the wedding, I entered my in-laws’ home, determined to make it my own and serve my husband, Ian. But Ian was cold. On our wedding night, he said, “Lift your veil; I’ve seen you plenty of times. Why this drama?” His words shattered me. I cried, and he said, “Marrying you ruined my life. Why are you crying?” I asked, “How did I ruin your life?” He replied, “Not you, my parents. They forced this marriage despite my refusal. You’re my father’s cousin’s daughter, and they honored an old engagement. They didn’t care about me.” I said, “How is that my fault?” He answered, “It’s neither of our faults. But my happiness is gone. The girl I love is in the hospital after a suicide attempt. How can I celebrate our wedding night? If she dies, I’ll never find peace.” His eyes filled with tears. “We’ll live under one roof, sobbing through life. I couldn’t escape; my mom threatened to kill herself.” I was heartbroken—first, my love was taken, and now my husband loved another. He took a bottle of liquor from the cupboard, drank, and stumbled, falling as he tried to sit on the bed. I helped him up, laid him down, and he passed out. I spent the night crying.
To honor my parents and in-laws, I kept this secret and tried to make the marriage work. But Ian never accepted me as his wife. Four years later, after my father-in-law’s death, Ian married the girl he loved and distanced himself from me. My life was ruined. I learned Nathan had transferred to another city. I contacted Fiona, but she said she didn’t know his whereabouts, perhaps at his request to avoid disrupting my life. He kept his promise to my parents. He didn’t know I was already broken. After Ian’s second marriage, I stayed with my mother-in-law for a while, then returned to my parents’ home, clinging to memories, hoping Nathan might return.
One day, my sister gave me the envelope Nathan had given me at the wedding. It contained the check my father gave him and a letter: “I may be poor, but I’m not greedy. I’m returning this check. Sending it to your father would be disrespectful. Keep it as a wedding gift or return it to him. For your parents’ happiness, I’m stepping out of your life. I pray you’re always happy.” Reading this, I wept and told my mom everything about Ian, blaming her for sacrificing my happiness to save a childhood engagement. My parents admitted they wanted me to marry into a wealthy family for my happiness. I said, “Mom, happiness comes from fate, not wealth. Nathan was poor, but I know he could’ve made me happy.”
Despite everything, I tried to honor my marriage, but Ian never truly accepted me. My life was wasted, and I live with the memories of what could have been.
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