Granting One Last Wish novel Chapter 8

ABBY

These past few days were so exhausting and full of pain and anguish. I can't believe that I'm still breathing--barely breathing. I've been through a lot throughout my life, but losing someone you love is different than being held captive and tortured. Although I'm also affected mentally, I'm not heartbroken, unlike mom's death.

Nothing in this world can ever replace my mother, I don't even care about the Will, but it's mom's legacy. Her Last Will only reminds me that my mother is truly gone and never comes back. I just need to be strong for dad--the only family I have left.

Dad reminded me last night before going to sleep that today is the day of the reading of Mom's Will. I saw the pain in Dad's eyes no matter how he tried to hide. He just lost someone who we dearly loved and who has been his life partner for almost three decades. It sucks that I can't do anything to help him lessen the pain and what he has been going through right now.

Dad's office reminds me of a lot of things--from my childhood until today. I still remember coming to this office even when I was still in grade school. I love reading books in this place especially when Dad's around, but today it reminds me of loss.

I run my fingers through Dad's book collections alphabetically arranged according to Author's last name. I guess it's in the blood of being a bookworm. His huge mahogany desk is still the same for as long as I can remember. On the left side are few of his liquor collections although, Dad doesn't drink much. He has his own cellar here in our home.

Mom's lawyer is already sitting in front of Dad. I feel nervous all of a sudden, but whatever written was mom's wishes. She could just donate all of her money or sell her property to auctions and donate them to those in needs but I hope I can have some of her jewelry as her memorabilia. Some are family heirloom already that passed through generations of Hirlington.

I know mom's lawyer. I've met him a couple of times. He's in his late sixties, graying thin layer of hair with thick-rimmed glasses just on the tip of his nose, but he's well known for his practice. Atty. After extending my hand for him, I sit comfortably.

I take a deep breath. I don't pay much attention when he starts mentioning Mom's name address, spouse, etc., all I can hear are money, bank accounts, properties and assets, and liabilities. When my name is mentioned, I listen intently, and something catches my attention about three conditions. Three conditions? Wait, what?

I must have shouted the word what because their attentions are on me right now.

"Let him continue, sweetheart," Dad says.

"Well, I don't care about Mom's money. She is gone, and it won't change a thing. She can donate them, and I won't say anything. You don't have to continue Atty. Sanders," I say as I look at the lawyer and tighten my lips to frown.

"I know it's hard for you, Abbygail, but let me continue. It's your Mom's. Honor her wishes, will you?" Atty. Sanders says.

I nod. "Please, continue. I apologize for the interruption." I narrow my eyes as I listen carefully, and my hands start sweating.

"The three conditions," as the lawyer continues.

I listen half-interested, and then I hear in between words and sentences.

"All will be transferred to my daughter Mackenzie Abbygail Catherine a.k.a Abbygail Catherine within three years, otherwise all will be transferred to my representative permanently."

My eyebrows furrow. What? And who's her representative?

"One. Ties of matrimony to Mr. Sebastian Christopher W. Hughes III within a month of my death. No divorce shall be filed within three years, otherwise all conditions will be forfeited." My hands cover mouth, and I freeze in my seat, and I just stare with eyes wide.

"Two. A trust fund, including educational fund, housing allowance, foods, bills, etc. will be fully paid by my representative within three years, and as monthly allowance according to her status of living."

I remove my hands in my mouth, and my gut starts to twist.

"Three. My representative, Mr. Sebastian Hughes III will take all the rights and ownership of all my properties after three years when any of my conditions are not met."

I shake my head in disbelief. I can't believe this. I motion him to stop.

"Sebastian Christopher Hughes III?" I shriek, and I observe both of them.

Nobody talk.

"Sebastian as in the Seb? The playboy, bad boy, man-whore?" I squint my eyes at Dad and Atty. Sanders and they just look at me as if I am not furious.

" Unbelievable! Un-fucking-believable! Does he know anything about the will?"

Still, I get nothing from the two of them.

"Of course, he knew. How could Mom let me marry this man for goddamn three awful years of my life!" I look at seemingly calm Dad.

"You knew about this, do you, Dad? Why didn't you stop her? I'm still in college, and the last thing on my mind is getting married. I thought you both want me to enjoy life, have friends, travel all over the world, and finish my MBA. I didn't even go out on a proper date or yet even kiss someone. I didn't even experience a teenage life, and now everything is ruined because I'm getting married. What do you want me to do? Just pop out kids, stay at home, and make myself crazy waiting for my man-whore of a husband to come home, and spread my legs? Tell me, Dad! Does he even want to marry someone like me who is totally beyond damaged, an inexperienced, naive, and has full of baggage? I don't even know how to cook or boil water, what more changing diapers? I'm sure he'll be disgusted when he finds out about this. Oh, I read on the internet about him. He probably has STD because he slept most of the women in this fucking State." Both of them just stare at me in shock, and that's all I get.

I shake my head in disappointment. "I don't want this goddamn money or anything belongs to Mom. And I'm leaving tonight."

Before I can move from where I'm standing, Dad catches my hand. "Sweetheart, your mom was an intelligent woman. She knew what she was doing and writing her will. You have to know that. Respect whatever is written in there. You can't change anything. It is already done." Dad's voice is composed

"She must be drugged or confused while writing them." I look at the lawyer, and I continue, "Or maybe you misheard or misspoke or overlooked. Please, check it again? Because this wasn't sound like my mom. This can't be happening. There must be a mistake. I'm sure he won't agree with this. He seems to enjoy his life well, and he won't just agree to marry me. This is so ridiculous. I'm going to destroy his life by marrying him, or forcing him into marriage is entirely insane. He will laugh his ass off at me. He thinks Mom was out of her mind. He can have them." My hands still on my hips, and I sigh in dismay.