Chapter Thirteen

Its been six agonizing weeks. With every day approaching I'm reminded that I'd be getting married to a man I don't love and the man I actually love I'll never marry.

I've been working extra hours to get every thought out of my mind. Leaving the house as early as seven thirty and getting home as late as eleven, Saturdays included. Save for the days Miles decides to drag me out to dinner or something.

Andrew and I, dare I say have grown distant. We talk, chat and call when we both have the time to, the time difference making it worse.

Everytime he reminds me that he loves me and that he won't stop fighting for us, no matter what.  As for me, I've gotten to a point where all I can think about is how to live till the next day.

I'm really trying but as the days draw closer the reality keeps hitting me like a ton of bricks, reminding me that I have no say in my life.

Miles and I have been going for various appointments, meeting with the wedding planner and now it's a month and three weeks to the wedding.

My mother and I are on a leveled ground, I've stopped galring at her everytime, at least for Miles' sake. Everytime we're all together, he never fails to remind me that he's there and if I keep giving my mother hate looks and speeches, he'll always end up feeling really awkward.

Today she reminded me of the dress fitting, not just for me but my bride's maids too. Funke will be my maid of honor while Ana, Jo and Maya are the other bride's maids.

Ana willingly agreed to be a part of the bride's maids, saying she has been living for the day I'd get married for a long time though she wishes it's with Andrew but she'll take whatever she has.

Funke is yet to arrive, Jo and Maya have been around once in a while. Helping me with a few things. Ana is going to arrive two weeks to the wedding meaning she's going to be around for new years and probably Christmas

"Martini please," I said to the bartender as I took my seat on one of the stools.

I placed my palms on the cold marble of the counter top. The diamond stud of the ring on my left hand glistening under the bar lights.

My father forced me to wear the ring, no matter how hard I protested. I still remember that day like the back of my palm.

Dad called me to his office and the moment I walked in he asked me where the ring was.

I rolled my eyes and leaned on the door of his office, clutching my handbag to my body. I was just arriving at work. "I'm not wearing it dad." I answered.

"Why must you make everything difficult? We're not going to have the same conversation again, wear that ring Victoria, you're engaged," he wove his hand before fixing his gaze on his laptop on his desk.

I huffed and turned around to leave his office but his deep voice stopped me.

"Where are you going? I said wear the ring!"

"It's not here dad," I shot back.

He sighed, "stop lying Victoria, it's in your bag," he pointed to my handbag.

Yes it was in my bag, it has been there ever since, I never bothered to take it out because I never planned to wear it unless it was absolutely necessary.

I wanted to lie that it wasn't in my bag but the look my father gave me had me rummaging my handbag for the box, taking out the ring and slipping it into my finger.

That was supposed to be Andrew doing that. I thought to myself.

I looked back up at dad and he nodded in approval, waving his hand again now meaning I could leave his office.

I was brooding for the rest of that day and Temi can testify to that, I gave her hell that day and I know it. I kind of regret it though.

Other days when I took off the ring and my father saw it he yelled at me to put it back on and I really had no choice. Like I said, I have no control over my life even though I'm twenty three years old.

"Here you go," the bartender said, placing the glass in front of me.

I held the straw and sipped the drink, feeling the cold drink glide down my throat.

"Whoever he is must be really lucky," an unknown voice said from beside me and I didn't bother looking up.

I chuckled dryly, "he sure is."

I felt someone sit beside me and I still didn't look up, sipping my drink. At some point I got tired of the straw and drank directly from the glass, emptying it's contents in a flash.

I looked at the bartender. "I'd like tequila now, five shots."

He nodded and took away the Martini glass.

"Is it that bad?" The stranger beside me said with a certain humor in his voice.

"You don't know the half of it," I said and this time I looked up at the stranger. He looked really familiar.

His eyes widened when he saw my face, "Victoria?"

"Who are you?" I shifted backwards a little, worried that this stranger knows me and I don't know him.

"I'm Daniel, one of Miles' men in suit." He said this time with a smile on his face.

Now it makes sense. A few days ago when the girls and I had gone dress fitting for the hundredth time, Miles had introduced me to his groomsmen/ men in suit and best man. We had a few drinks together that day so we were all a little drunk at the end of the day, it's probably why we didn't recognize each others voices instantly.

"Daniel! Nice to see you again!" I said, a bit happy to actually see him.

"Likewise, Miles says you've been really busy with work or rather, been burying yourself in work," he said.

"That is true," I passed one of the shot glasses to him. "To my horrible life," I rose a shot glass and clinked it with his before downing the shot.

He just laughed and downed his shot too.

After that everything was blurry. I know I had a few more shots, we danced a little, he made me drink a lot of water to keep me sober to some point but I was still drunk.

"I knew I'd find you here," a familiar voice said behind me and I whipped my body around so fast I nearly fell from the stool.

"Funke!" I screamed, throwing myself on her, at least attempting to.

I stumbled from the stool and Funke caught me, holding me to herself while laughing. "Easy there babe," she helped me sit back properly before occupying Daniels old seat.

Daniel had gone to the restroom a while back.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" I took a sip of my water, trying to sober up a little.

"I wanted to surprise you, so imagine my own surprise when I got to your house and you weren't there. I knew I'd find you here anyways, it's the closest bar to your house." She shrugged and ordered for more shots.

"I'm wasted and you want to get me more wasted?" I eyed her.

"Who says it's for you?" She gave me the stink eye and I laughed. "If my best friend is drunk, we get drunk together!" She wiggled her brows at me and I laughed even harder.

God I love this woman!

I watched as she downed five shots then she dragged me to the dance floor. We danced, drank some more and danced and by the next morning I wondered how the hell I got back home.

My head was pounding so hard when I woke up. I turned, avoiding the small rays of light that managed to sneak into my room.

I felt hair on my face and I opened my eyes, almost screaming. I sat up and visibly relaxed when I saw Funke but my eyes widened when I tried to remember how the hell she got here. Last I remember, she was still in Chicago.

Images of Funke coming up to me in the bar last night came back to me and I smiled a little. I guess the water I was drinking really helped me.

I stood up from the bed and made my way downstairs, my barefoot on the cold tiles. The smell of food caught my nose and I froze.

Who was in my house?

I tiptoed to the kitchen and once again relaxed when I saw it was Miles. He knows where I keep a spare key.

"What are you doing here?" I asked and he jumped a little.

"Daniel called me last night to babysit you guys," he said while rinsing his hand. "Good morning," he smiled and wiped his hand clean on a napkin.

"Morning," I smiled and sat on one of the stools. "Can you get me the paracetamol, my head hurts," I pointed to the top cabinet and he followed my directions.

"Here you go," he gave me the pills with a glass of water and when I had used the drug and drank the water he took the cup away, replacing it with a plate of eggs, bread and a cup of coffee. "Is your friend up?"

"Not yet, and her name is Funke," I told him, chewing on a slice of bread. "I can get used to this every morning."

He laughed, "oh please, I don't cook, it's only because you were wasted last night."

"Then I'll be getting wasted every night," I joked and ate the eggs. I moaned when the food hit my tongue.

"Riya who are you talking to?" Funke's groggy voice filled the kitchen and I turned around to look at her.

She was rubbing her forehead with her eyes partly closed. She sat on the stool beside me then looked up.

"Morning," I said and looked at Miles. "Please the paracetamol again," I said which made Funke look up too.

She leaned closer to me and whispered. "Who is he?"

"That's Miles you idiot," I flicked her forehead and she winced. "I've shown you his picture before."

"Sorry, I'm hungover remember?" She said while eyeing Miles.

He was wearing a white tank top with grey sweatpants. With his back to us, I must say that he did look hot, but not as hot as Andrew.

"Did you sleep here last night?" I asked and he shook his head.

"I just made sure you guys were okay before leaving. Came back this morning after my morning jog and since you guys were still sleeping I decided to make you breakfast." He shrugged and turned back to face us, handing Funke the pills together with her food.

She muttered a quick thank you before using the pills too.

"Thanks Miles, " I said sincerely. "Anyways this is my best friend Funke, Funke this is Miles my fiance." I groaned at the last word.

"Nice to meet you Miles and thank you for last night and obviously this morning," she stretched out her hand to Miles which he shook. "You know you're also engaged to Andrew," she said to me and my eyes nearly left their sockets.

"Funke!" I warned.

"What? It's true and we all know it," she shrugged then began eating.

I looked at Miles, giving him an apologetic look but he just shrugged.

"It is true," he said before taking the other seat beside me and eating too. "You going to work today?"

"Shit," I began to rush my food. "I have to go guys, see you later!" I rushed out of the kitchen, not able to finish my food. I'm never drinking on a Sunday night again.

The time on my clock read eight twenty two and I have a meeting by eight thirty. My father is going to kill me.