The Mayor's daughter

“Are you going to eat that?” My brother asked from beside me, his giant hands already bringing my untouched plate towards him. Wagyu beef was usually my favourite but today the sweet coconut-like aroma turned my stomach, making me feel nauseous. We were attending yet another dinner dance. As the obedient and ‘perfect’ daughter of Mayor Wetherton it was expected that I would attend. Unlike my brother, I despised these dinner dances and would rather poke my eyes out with a fork than engage in one more conversation with a stuck up aristocrat who drawled about how much money in the bank he had.

The rest of my family were the same. All they cared about was wealth and image. It was the only thing they talked about. Many would think I was fortunate with a credit card courtesy of daddy, a seven bedroom house to wander around in, the keys to a Bentley and access to almost anything I wanted. Yet, I could not be any more miserable. I was lonely in the empty mansion, money didn’t mean anything to me and I had to maintain this pristine image all the time. It was absolutely exhausting. The only reprieve from my life was Cole. A musician who I knew my family would never approve of and a man that only knew the part of me that I chose to show him. He didn’t even know my real name. To Cole, I was Becky Miller, a struggling art student not Persephone Wetherton, the daughter of the Mayor. I didn’t know how Cole would react if he discovered that truth and that I had lied to him for the five month duration that we had been dating. I was positive that this life, these people and my own family would scare him away. 

The dinner plates and silverware were cleared away by servers dressed in their penguin suits, signalling the least favourite part of my night - the mingling. We were escorted out of the dining hall towards the now bustling ballroom. From an objective point of view, the ballroom was breathtaking with its tasteful secret garden themed decor, high ceilings and a crystal chandelier that sparkled and glittered in every single direction. But from attending so many of these wretched events, the magic of it wore off on me. 

“Persephone darling, isn’t it splendid?” My mother eloquently asked as she indicated at the artificial vines and flowers hanging all over the room.

“It certainly is mother,” I said, plastering a fake smile on my face. 

“I wished I thought of this theme for our last Christmas Yule ball, we will have to come up with something bigger and better for this year.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about Mother. Your ball was absolutely perfect, the ‘A Christmas carol’ theme was all anyone could talk about for weeks.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she grinned as she tucked a curled strand of hair behind her ear. “It sure was the talk of the town. Besides, it wouldn't have made sense to have a garden themed ball in the depths of winter.”

Mother grabbed a champagne flute from the server and I followed suit. I was only nineteen but no-one cared that I was drinking underage. I quickly downed my drink and replaced it with another before the server sauntered away to tend to other guests. I had a feeling that it was going to be a long night and I would need a good few of these if I wanted to make it through the evening.

Father led us from guest to guest, talking to all the socialites that he thought would help his agenda. He was due to start his campaign to be re-elected as Mayor at the end of Spring and who better to get on his side than the wealthiest people in the city. It was hard not to notice my brother taking particular interest in one such individual or rather the petite blonde that was accompanying him. Anastasia Brown, daughter of big time property developer Jonas Brown and my own personal nemesis. Since we were children, Anastasia had made it her mission to bring about my downfall from high society and to her displeasure she hadn’t succeeded in that mission just yet. I couldn’t understand what Sebastian saw in a girl like her. Yes, she was beautiful but that beauty only ran skin deep. The way he casted amorous glances in her direction made me feel physically sick. The literal kind. I handed my mother the near empty glass of champagne and raced in the direction of the nearest lavatory. 

I made it into the bathroom just in time. I spent half an hour sitting on the ground, hugging the ceramic toilet. It was not my finest hour. When I was certain there was little risk of me vomiting again, I rose to my feet and straightened my floor-length, silk dress. Running my fingers through my hair, I opened the door of the stall and saw Anastasia putting on her signature ruby-red lipstick in the mirror.

“Oh Persephone. Did you get food poisoning hunny? I did mention to my father that the caviar tasted slightly rancid.” Anastasia paused, still holding her lipstick and looked up to the ceiling in thought. “Or is that a scandal I can smell? Your dress is looking a little tight around the middle,” she sniggered.

I looked down at my teal dress, I was a little bloated or was I...? Surely not. As I attempted to quickly do the maths in my head, Anastasia whirled around, giving me her full attention.

“You are, aren’t you,” she smirked as she flicked her golden waves over her bare shoulder. I could see my face pale in the mirror. Usually, I could handle Anastasia’s snide remarks with little effort but at that moment in time, my head was too clouded with all the what if’s that I could not muster any smart retorts back. How would I tell Cole? How could I ever tell my parents? Anastasia put the lid on her lipstick and tucked it into her purse “Oh how the mighty fall,” she said with a glance and exited the bathroom.

After I gathered myself together, I re-entered the ballroom and was met with stares by Anastasia and the circles she was known to associate with. It didn’t take her long. I would have thought she would have at least given me a day. I suppose that was optimistic of me considering that she had spent her whole life dedicated to my demise. My family were on the other side of the ballroom but as I began to approach them, I heard the whispers. 

I told my father that I had a headache and left with our driver. It was not a complete lie because I could feel a serious migraine beginning to bloom. When I got to the empty, cold house that I called home, I sprinted up the stairs to my bedroom. My bedroom was just like my life. To an untrained eye it looked orderly, clean and immaculate but if one took a closer look they would be able to see the hidden messy layer underneath. The crumpled chocolate and crisp wrappers stuffed into drawers after overindulging at night, the unwashed tatty teddy gifted by my father when I was six under my pillow, the discarded clothes thrown under my bed after I tried them on. I was not as perfect as people made me out to be. And if it were to be true, if I was pregnant, the world would soon find out that truth.

After a quick change of clothes, I hurried to the store on foot to pick up a test. My parents and brother would not be back for another couple of hours and I needed to know either way before they came home. It was a perfect opportunity to go to the store unseen because everyone who’s anyone was attending that ball. I pushed open the door to the small drug store and the ding of the bell overhead announced my arrival. Fortunately for me, the shop was relatively empty. I gave the middle aged man with an untamed beard a stiff smile and headed for the feminine hygiene aisle which was where I assumed the pregnancy tests were located. My assumption was correct because right next to contraceptive products, the products that I should have used, was the product that I needed so desperately now. 

At the register, the man with the wild black bush of a beard gave me a sympathetic look as I handed him my sole item. As the beep of the scanner sounded so did the ding of the bell over the shop front. I turned my head towards the sound and found the one person coming through the door that I didn’t expect or want to see tonight - Cole. Cole shook the rain from his hair and clothes. In the two minutes I was in the shop, the rain must have really picked up - great. Like I was a magnet, Cole's eyes found mine instantly. He must have seen something in my eyes, maybe nervousness or guilt even, because his eyebrows furrowed and his attention then moved the cashier who was still holding the test in his hands.

Neither of us said a word but by the way his golden brown eyes shined I could tell he was upset. I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed before he walked out the door he had just come in. I finished up with my purchase which was now safely concealed in a brown paper bag and exited the shop. Unsheltered from the rain, Cole leaned against the red brick wall of the building.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked simply.

“There’s nothing yet to tell.”

“Well, there might be,” he indicated at the bag. “You know Beck, I’m here for you no matter what. This isn’t something you should be facing alone.”

“I’ve always been alone.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t expect you to do anything, we’ve only been dating a few months, you barely know me.”

“I think I know you better than you think I do.”

“Do you? Because there is more to my life than you realise, more than what I’ve told you.”

“I don’t care what you have and haven’t told me. I know you, the real you.” The rain began to fall even faster, soaking me from head to toe. “Come home with me Beck, we can talk this through.”

“I’m not Beck!” I blurted. A single tear fell down my cheek, hidden by the drops of rain. I took a deep inhale and continued before I lost the confidence to say what needed to be said. “My name is Persephone, Persephone Wetherton”. Cole’s jaw dropped in shock. He knew exactly what that name meant. I could tell he tried to think of something to say but couldn’t find the words. “I was scared to tell you. To tell you who I am, who I really am.”

“Persephone, Sephy,” he said, trying out the new name on his tongue. “That's not who you really are. That’s just a name and status. The real you is in here." He put his hand over his heart. “And believe me, I know what’s in there. Let’s get out of this rain and talk it through back at my apartment.” Although I was hesitant, I nodded and followed Cole back to his car.

The open plan layout of Cole’s apartment made it feel larger than it was. It also gave me a perfect view of Cole busying himself in the kitchen while I sat patiently on the couch wearing his T-shirt. When we arrived, he had given me one of his plain white T-shirts to borrow while my drenched clothes dried in the tumble dryer. On Cole, the T-shirt fitted him perfectly and accentuated all the right places. It had the opposite effect on me. It swamped my tiny frame and the hem of it reached my knees, making it resemble more like an oversized dress than a T-shirt. 

With a couple of steps, Cole moved from the kitchen into the sitting room, a novelty Christmas mug containing hot cocoa in each hand. I cradled the mug, warming my cold hands and inhaled the rich chocolatey scent with subtle hints of vanilla. I took a large gulp of the velvety liquid causing me to audibly moan. I could see Cole’s boyish grin in the corner of my eye. Just by that grin and the glint in his eyes, I knew exactly what he was thinking about my response to the hot chocolate. That was exactly what had gotten us into this mess in the first place. Recognising that I was in no mood for his charm or playfulness, Cole placed his mug on the glass coffee table and straightened in his seat.

“Look at me Sephy,” he whispered as he lifted my chin so I could finally meet his gaze. “What will be, will be and whatever the outcome I’ll be here to support you. I love you.” I was startled by his words. No-one, not even my own parents had ever uttered those words to me. All my life I have yearned to hear them. I should have been happy to hear them, yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had said them just because of the situation we had found ourselves in. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“I do love you,” he reaffirmed, his face full of sincerity, “and that’s not because you may be pregnant or because you are the mayor's daughters. I love you, for you.” 

I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, but my throat constricted blocking any words from coming out. 

“You don’t have to say anything - not until you're ready,” he said after a beat of silence. “But just know, I will be with you, holding your hand and ready to face whatever obstacle life throws at us.”

Cole reached for the brown paper bag and handed it to me. I held it tightly in my grip making a rustling sound and causing my teeth to grind together. 

“Let’s start with the first obstacle.” 

I nodded my head in response and repeated his words. “Let’s start with the first obstacle.”

Cole was right in what he said that day. In the six years since he made that vow, our lives were rocked like a boat on a stormy sea. There were times when I thought the monstrous tidal waves would drown me, like the time my parents disowned me after I told them about Cole and the pregnancy. But no matter what, Cole was there, holding my hand ready to brave the storm with me. And by God, there were many storms to brave.