“Listen here, Archie,” Gerald Edwards placed a pen and a blank sheet of paper on the desk. “Write your resignation. Right here, right now.”
“Hows that?” The young man frowned. “Am I underperforming? I closed three deals just this month.”
“Couldve been thirty! Its restructuring or downsizing. You dont fit the company anymore, simple as that.”
“Or is this about your daughter? About Emily? Ill keep seeing her regardless. Were getting marriedeven if I end up scrubbing floors.”
“Not a chance. Not in a million years! I wont have a son-in-law who chases every skirt in sight! Plenty of decent lads would jump at a girl like Em. You? Stay a mile away from her!”
When Archie first joined the firm, hed never imagined falling for the bosss daughter. He didnt even know Emily then. Fresh out of university with top marks, hed planned to build a career in property salescharismatic, sharp, a natural at clinching deals. Gerald himself had recruited him after his internship. Now here he was, being strong-armed into resigning.
Was it true Archie had once been a bit of a ladies’ man? Fair point. He took pride in his appearance, dressed well, drove a nice cara catch, by most standards. But marriage? Not on his mind. He wanted to climb the ladder first, settle down later. Plenty of time for all that.
His parents occasionally nudged him toward “nice girls from good families,” as his mum put it. Nice families, perhaps, but the girls either lacked looks or wit.
Once, his mother invited a colleague overAngelica, supposedly to finish some paperwork. She was striking, legs so toned they turned heads on the street. Even Archie was momentarily stunned.
Noticing his reaction, his mum pounced.
“Angelicas new in accounting, but everyone adores her. And her cinnamon rolls? Youve no idea.”
“Ill bring some next time,” Angelica purred, batting her lashes. “Oh, and I make my own pickles.”
That last bit ruined it. Archie pictured a kitchen cluttered with jars, laundry strung up, a pot of stew bubbling away. He shifted uncomfortably. Not that he disliked homemakingjust not now, not like this.
Angelica was persistent, dropping off her rolls later. Archie bolted, citing an urgent meeting.
Thered been flings, of course. Like Imogen, a checkout girl at the local supermarket. Theyd bumped into each other often, eventually striking up a thing. Once, he invited her to a barbecue with matesneither wanted to go solo. They had a laugh.
They kept seeing each other. Archie even brought her to a work outing, a mushroom-picking trip where most colleagues brought their partners. Gerald approved.
“Proper girl, that one. Looks at you like you hung the moon. Dont dawdleladies like her dont come along often. Time to settle down.”
“Not planning to marry anyone,” Archie blurted. “Were keeping it casual.”
“Casual wont last forever,” Gerald scoffed, waving a skewer. “But suit yourself.”
Eventually, Imogen transferred stores. Rumor had it she married some wealthy older bloke. Archie shrugged. No promises broken.
Then came Emily. They met at a dog showboth adored Dobermans but couldnt own one. Archie was rarely home; her dad was allergic. He had no idea her father was Gerald.
Fate had other plans. Their bond deepened. Hed walk her homenever to the door, though. She wasnt ready for her parents to meet him. Theyd say goodbye on a bench in the park, stealing kisses unseen.
Until Gerald, out for an evening stroll, caught them.
“You know who this is?” he roared, jabbing a finger at Archie.
“My fiancé,” Emily said simply. “Actually, Ive been meaning to introduce you”
“Weve met! Dyou know how many like you hes had? Ive met some!”
Chaos erupted. Archie tried reasoning with the apoplectic boss, but Gerald dragged Emily home like a misbehaving child.
The next day, he summoned Archie and forced the resignation. Pleas of true love fell on deaf ears.
“Well still see each other!” Archie insisted on his way out.
“Like hell,” Gerald spat, loosening his collar. “My daughter doesnt need a rake. And I dont need a son-in-law like you.”
“Frankly, Im not thrilled about you as a father-in-law either.”
And that was that. Gerald kept his wordEmily vanished. Turns out, hed shipped her off to his brother in another city, confiscating her phone.
But one day, a forgotten mobile left behind gave her a chance to call Archie. They plotted an escape during a supervised walk. Archie rented a flatsomewhere to live, far from Geralds reach.
They postponed the wedding. How could they celebrate without her parents? Emilys mother knew where they were but stayed awayGeralds orders. He later found their address but never visited. “No daughter. Certainly no son-in-law,” hed grumbled.
Then came the baby news. Joy for allexcept, presumably, Gerald. He relented just enough to let his wife visit Emily during the pregnancy.
When the day came, Archie stood outside the maternity ward, flowers in hand, surrounded by friends, his parents, and Emilys mum, who dabbed her eyes.
Just before Emily emerged with baby Oliver, Gerald materialized. He glared at Archie, then muttered,
“Got champagne and fruit in the car. Suppose we ought to celebrate?”
Emily appeared then. Gerald spotted the baby, gruffly extended his arms.
“Lets have a hold. Need to meet the lad.”
And somehow, everyone laughed.
