One

Ritchie

Ritchie found it quite ironic. On the day when he was set to read his father's will, the sky was crystal clear. His father had been ill for a whole week, and it had rained persistently, even on the day he passed away and during the funeral, making everything even more dismal. Ritchie stood there with an umbrella, raindrops falling from the edges and dampening his already muddy shoes as he watched the undertakers lower his father's casket into the ground. Funerals had always been something Ritchie detested; they seemed like senseless rituals meant solely for the living. His father's thoughts on them while he was alive were irrelevant now. Ritchie often thought that when his time came, he would instruct them to cremate him and scatter his ashes out of a window since it wouldn't matter to him anyway.

So, it rained continuously throughout that first week, during the memorial, the wake, and the special event at his favorite country club. Every morning, Ritchie woke up, and for once, the weather matched his mood – cold, gray, and somewhat soggy. It wasn't until the day he had to be at the courthouse for the will reading that he woke up to sunshine in his eyes. Ritchie wasn't a believer in signs or messages from the afterlife, but he couldn't help but notice the irony of the sun shining down on him that day.

As he stepped out of the car with his stepmother Rebecca, she remarked on the beautiful day, expressing relief that the endless rain had finally ceased. Ritchie said nothing; he seldom spoke to Rebecca, and there was no need to start now.

Inside the courthouse, they met the family lawyer, Mitchell Stanley (or Stanley Mitchell, Ritchie was never quite sure). Rebecca greeted him like an old friend, but Ritchie couldn't hide his disdain for his father's wife. She was at least forty years younger, dressed as if she were in her twenties, and her attire left little to the imagination. It wasn't her appearance that bothered Ritchie the most; it was her attitude. Rebecca was a blend of shallowness and meanness, typical of certain socialite women. Being around her made Ritchie queasy. He hoped the will reading would conclude swiftly.

They were ushered into a room with a table and chairs, along with a flat-screen television. The lawyer thanked them for attending, as they were Mr. Hollis' only living family members, and his father had hoped they would be present together. Eager to get it over with, Ritchie mentioned his upcoming meetings, prompting the lawyer to proceed.

The lawyer turned on a video, and Ritchie's father appeared on the screen, looking like he did before falling ill, with a youthful spark in his eyes. Ritchie noticed the gold watch that had belonged to his mother, gifted to his father on their last anniversary before she passed. A smile formed on Ritchie's face, and that was how he preferred to remember his father.

His father addressed Rebecca and Ritchie, stating that Ritchie, as his only child and namesake, would inherit his estate and company holdings. Rebecca's face dropped, but Ritchie said nothing, pleased with her reaction.

His father continued, explaining that the inheritance came with a price. He hoped Ritchie would find joy, as he did with Rebecca. He emphasized the importance of finding the right woman and how she could make money meaningless. Ritchie's stomach tightened; he couldn't believe his father was lecturing him about his love life from beyond the grave.

The bombshell dropped when his father mentioned a stipulation - Ritchie had to be married or have plans for marriage in place to inherit anything. If he remained unmarried, Rebecca would oversee the estate until he married, and if he got engaged, he would maintain his current position until the wedding. Ritchie was left stunned, and the lawyer turned off the television.

Rebecca cheered and asked how the money transfer would work, confident that Ritchie was neither married nor engaged. However, Ritchie, seizing the opportunity, stated, "Actually, I just got engaged last night."