Chapter 4 Arriving Home

Nick stepped out of the airport, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. As he walked outside, he immediately noticed a convoy waiting for him.

Standing at the forefront of the cars, wearing a bright smile, was Timothy. It had been years since Nick had last seen him.

"Timothy! Look at you, my man. You look incredible," Nick exclaimed, approaching Timothy with genuine warmth. He gave his old friend a friendly hug and a pat on the back.

Timothy, however, seemed somewhat stiff in response. "It's good to see you too, sir," he replied formally.

"Seriously, Tim? Sir? We've been friends for years," Nick said, a hint of disappointment evident in his voice.

"That was when we were younger, sir. Now we have to fit into our respective roles and obligations. I'm pleased to announce that I'm officially your butler, sir," Timothy explained with a polite smile.

Nick's frown deepened. Throughout his life, he had often found himself surrounded by people who were drawn to him solely because of his wealth or his family's status. Genuine friendships were few and far between.

Timothy, on the other hand, used to be his best friend when they were children. Timothy's father worked as his father's butler, and Timothy would visit their house after school. The boys had formed a strong bond during those days.

Timothy had been Nick's very first real friend, and it pained him to see that their friendship had changed so drastically. Everything in his life seemed to be going wrong.

"We should get going, sir," Timothy interrupted Nick's thoughts, bringing him back to the present moment.

With a sigh, Nick walked toward the car and got in, and they drove off. As they traveled, Nick couldn't help but reflect on his life and the drastic changes that lay ahead.

He couldn't believe that he would be marrying a complete stranger. It weighed heavily on his mind.

Leaning back in his seat, Nick closed his eyes, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. It felt as though he was being forced to choose between his inheritance and his own happiness. It was a difficult reminder he needed to face.

*******

"Can I please have another drink?" Rachel asked the bartender, feeling the need to numb her pain with alcohol. She was heartbroken and sad, hoping to find solace in the drinks that kept coming.

"Sure," the bartender replied, pouring another shot for Rachel. She swallowed it down in one gulp, feeling the familiar burn in her throat.

"Keep 'em coming," she requested, signaling to the bartender to continue.

And so, the drinks kept flowing.

"You have really beautiful eyes. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

Rachel overheard a man flirting with the woman beside her. She felt a pang of disgust as she observed their interaction.

"I told you, I have a boyfriend," the woman responded, giggling, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Who cares about him? I was talking to you. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," the man persisted, laying on the charm. The woman continued to giggle, fueling Rachel's disgust.

She wished they would just leave the vicinity.

"Stop it," the lady responded playfully, lightly tapping the man's chest. "I'm sure you say that to everyone."

"No, I really don't," the man replied his hand reaching up to delicately caress the lady's cheek.

Rachel, growing increasingly frustrated in her half-drunk state, couldn't bear it any longer.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, could you please stop?" Rachel interjected sharply. "You're making me feel nauseous."

"And who the fuck are you?" the man retorted, clearly annoyed by Rachel's interruption.

"I'm just a girl sitting here, trying to have a pleasant drink, but ends up listening to your rubbish," Rachel replied angrily, her words fueled by her intoxicated state.

"Didn't you say you have a boyfriend?" Rachel questioned the woman, who promptly walked away, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

"No, please don't go," the man pleaded, his efforts in vain as the woman ignored him and left. Annoyed, he turned his attention to Rachel, curious about the person who had disrupted his plans.

"Hey, are you drunk or something? Clearly, you're out of your mind," the man sneered.

"And clearly, you're a disgusting pervert who wants to sleep with another man's girlfriend," Rachel fired back, unphased by the man's hostile demeanor.

"You're a crazy bitch, and I'm not going to waste my time on you," the man spat, his expression darkening as he attempted to walk away.

"That's right. You should walk away, you ass," Rachel replied confidently, empowered by her liquid courage.

Nick stopped in his tracks upon hearing Rachel's words. "What did you call me?" he asked, intrigued by her boldness.

"An Ass."