Take My Wings: A Mail Order Bride Novel with a Deeper Meaning

Chapter 4: Michael

Lauren looked up as I walked past with the woman following me. "Not what I expected."

"Yeah, me neither." I scoffed as I walked past and punched the button for the elevator, pinching the bridge of my nose.

The elevator doors opened with a soft hum and I stepped inside, holding the door open for Eden. The doors shut and I leaned forward to push the button for the garage, watching her flinch.

I sighed and leaned back against the golden metal railing that ran around the elevator walls. I put my hands in my pockets as we took the elevator down. She stood beside me, saying nothing as she played with her dress some more.

"I- I'm so sorry." I cleared my throat, knowing full well that I should say something to break the tension. I didn't know what to tell her to get her to calm down. "I- I don't know how you ended up in this situation, but I'm sorry." She didn't say a single word, so I sighed and continued to speak. "My father... he's not the nicest man in the world. Money is his main way of running his life and buying relationships. He- look I'm not him. I don't want this any more than you do."

Eden crossed her arms and turned away from me in distaste. She clearly didn't want to explain herself or talk to me. No matter how hard I tried to make her feel more comfortable.

"I know you probably think I'm like my father. But I won't hurt you. I don't know what people have done to you or... said to you. I don't know what my father has done, but- I do know that I'm-" I was taken aback when she finally spoke.

"Stop." Eden finally spoke, as she flung her fists down at her sides. "Just stop talking to me like you're any different. Like you're some amazing man that didn't pay for me!"

"I didn't pay for you." I searched her trembling back as I watched her struggle with her anger and pain. "I didn't want this."

"I know you're just saying what I want to hear. Trying to make it seem like you're different from the others that pay for such services. Your father raised you. You can't be much different. You see a girl that is different and think she is some prize. You see an Asian girl and think of all the stereotypes that are slapped onto them like labels. Like products to be judged and looked over." Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her upper arms, trembling beside me in the elevator as the doors opened.