Favorite Color

Once Jacob had dropped me off home, I made my way to my room. I did not want my step-father to yell at me. Soon I would be out of this house and he would be happy.

It was heart breaking to know that I would go from being a burden on one man to being a burden on another. I would try my best not to be a burden on Jacob. He was willing to marry me even though he didn't love me, and if someone was willing to accept me, I would never cause problems for them. I would be the best wife to Jacob.

Sitting down on my bed, I buried my face in my hands, as I contemplated my upcoming wedding. I really did not want to buy a new dress but Jacob's mother insisted. If I told her that I wanted to wear my mother's dress, would she be angry? No, I couldn't take that chance. These people were kind enough to accept me, I should do whatever it took to make them happy and I would.

Fidgeting with my mother's ring, I thought about my new life with Jacob. I wondered if there was anyone that he liked or loved. Would he marry that woman after divorcing me? And for how long would he continue to be my unwanted husband? I knew that if he had a girlfriend or something, then I had no right to be jealous of her and demand that he stop seeing her. Once I married him, Jacob’s happiness would be my happiness and I would make sure of that.

The ringing of my phone broke me from my thoughts. Checking the caller ID had me frowning. Now who was calling me? I had already saved Jacob's number.

"Hello?"

"Hello Emila, darling, this is Mrs. Smith, Jacob's mother," a feminine voice spoke.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Smith, how are you?" I asked her.

"I'm alright, dear. Now I called to ask you when you will be free? The wedding is in less than six days and I have to make sure your dress is all ready," she said.

"Uh, you can pick a time, and we can go. I am not particularly busy." I told her. My step-father liked it when I stayed out of the house. As long as I cooked and cleaned, he couldn't care less about where I was.

"Alright, then I'll come tomorrow around 11:00 a.m. to pick you up," she stated.

"Okay, Mrs. Smith, I'll wait for you."

"Bye Emila. Take care." With that, she hung up.

Oh God, tomorrow I would get my new wedding dress. Maybe I should call her and cancel. I should wear my mother's dress. I did not want these people to spend money on me.

I picked up my phone to call Mrs. Smith when the thought of my father's anger made me pause. He was going to be furious if he found out I dared to upset the Smiths. No, I couldn't call her. I would just have to deal with all this.

The next time my phone rang, it was Jacob. Taking a deep breath, I accepted the call. I wonder why he was calling me right now when he had met me only a little while ago. I hope it was nothing serious.

"Hello?"

"Hello Emila, what are you doing?" Jacob asked, as if talking to an old friend.

"Nothing. I'm doing nothing," I answered.

"I wanted to ask you about your favorite color," he said.

"My favorite color? May I know the reason, please," I stated.

"Its for our new room. I want to paint the room with your favorite color. So tell me," he ordered.

"Why? It's your house and your room, you don't have to paint it with my favorite color." I told him.

"No. You'll be living with us now. And debt or not, we want our family members to be comfortable," he responded.

These people were so kind. Even though Jacob didn't love me, he wanted me to be comfortable. He was taking care of such tiny things. My step-father never cared where I slept, and this complete stranger was taking care of my comfort, so much so that he was willing to paint the room with a color I preferred. Why was he being so nice to me?

"I'll be fine, Jacob, honestly. You do not need to go through such trouble for me. I do not care about the color of the room," I said. I would be happy if he gave me a proper bed to sleep in.

"Tell me your favorite color, Emila, I will not ask again," he stated.

"Uh, I don't know. Peach maybe?" I never gave a thought to what my favorite color would be. No one really cared about what I wanted.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Jacob sounded annoyed.

"I'm sorry. I just never gave much thought to my favorite color. You can paint the room with the color of your choice, I don't mind." I told him.

"God, this is going to be difficult," he muttered, causing me to curse myself. I was a horrible person. Here he was trying to make me comfortable and I couldn't even give him a proper answer.

"I'm sorry. I just want you to be comfortable in that room, so you should paint it with the color of your choice. I'm sorry for being difficult, Jacob." God, how was I supposed to fix this now. I hadn’t even married Jacob and I was already being difficult.

"No. Stop apologizing. I know what to do now." With those words, he hung me, leaving me feeling confused and guilty.

Jacob didn't want to marry me, but at least he was making an effort; whereas, I was making things difficult for him right after I told him that I would try to be the best wife that I could be.

No, I had to try harder. I had to show Jacob that I was grateful to him and his generosity towards me.

I would get better.

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