CHAPTER 3: My Obligatory Marriage to Frédéric

I begged my mother, asking her to grant me grace to continue school. She told me never, adding, "School isn't for prostitutes."

Do you hear that? So, because of this sudden mistake I made, my mother classified me with the gang of prostitutes.

Now, I knew my mother well. She and my father have practically the same principle. When each of them decides no, remember that no matter what happens, they never change their initial decision.

In front of me, Mom called Dad at dawn because Dad was away. The day Mom called Dad was the day everyone knew Dad should be home. But my mother was so angry that waiting for her husband to return seemed like a waste of time. That day, Mom said to my dad when he answered the call: "Your daughter has already shamed me; she's already gone and fucked a jerk and has already been pregnant for three months."

It was when she specified "three months" that a smile crossed my lips without me realizing it.

By the way, I was surprised that, in the three months since I became pregnant, I felt absolutely nothing except the loss of my period. On the contrary, I ate a lot. While eating, I noticed that my two large breasts were getting bigger. But innocent as I was, I told myself that it was time to be Eudoxie Yao, Mrs. P.

Well, those were parentheses. That day, as my father was already looking for alternatives to shitting me out of his anus, he calmly said on the other end of the line: "And what's she waiting for to get out of the house?"

Hearing my father's response, my heart sank.

My mother, following this question, replied to my father: "She's going to join him now and immediately."

"She has to leave quickly before I get back, otherwise I risk cutting her into pieces," my father added.

And, having mastered my father well, I know he's capable of it. He's a very rigorous and strict man.

To avoid the devil, I calmly turned back to my room to take off my school uniform and then put on a very pretty dress. I then emptied my wardrobe into my suitcase and dragged it to the living room where my mother was working on the documents.

"What is it?" she asked me, fingering my suitcase.

I looked at the suitcase and then back at her. A second time, I looked at the suitcase again and then back at my mother.

Inwardly, I wondered if I'd made a mistake taking something else.

"Isn't it you I'm talking to?"

"Ooh, it's my suitcase, isn't it?" I replied, seeing as it was my mouth she was waiting for.

"You're crazy! You're turning that over so quickly…"

"What, Mom? And what am I going to wear there?"

"I'm brave, aren't I? Ha ha ha. They say I'm going to join the man who's always going to fuck me on the roof. So why neglect myself again by leaving the clothes I bought!"

"Are you asking me that?"

"Ooh, Mom, they're my clothes and I can't leave them." My mother looked at me once and again, then shook her head.

“Do you know you're being rude?”

At that, I remained silent and didn't say anything else because things were getting really serious.

“You've taken a great risk, and instead of expressing your displeasure, you're doing the opposite. You'll regret it one day.”

My mother jumped up, grabbed her car key from the table, and headed for the exit.

“Follow me,” she said.

I looked at the suitcase and the exit. I wondered what to do. Take the suitcase with me or leave it behind.

To avoid further insults, I pulled my suitcase aside and rushed to the courtyard.

Before I reached the courtyard, my mother had already taken her car out and parked it at the gate. She was too fast. She was closing the gate as I arrived in the courtyard. Walking very quickly, I reached her car and touched the passenger door.

"Will she come and sit in the front?" she asked me.

Yes, my seat was in the front so I could point her in the direction of Frédéric's house.

My mother started the car and we headed in a direction. No matter what, my mother drove, and I, with my index finger, pointed her down paths she'd never seen in her life. From time to time, I saw her shake her head. Did I even understand what that meant?

She drove, and I was calm beside her.

Finally, we arrived at the old gate of a house.

"It's here."

My mother slowed down and turned right, then turned off the engine. I quickly got out and headed toward the gate.

“Will she wait for me?” my mother asked.

It was then that I realized I hadn't come alone to see my husband, and that there were two of us.

My mother, after taking off her seatbelt, opened the door and caught up with me on the terrace by the gate.

“Let's go!” she said.

Together, we went up to the courtyard of the house where rooms had been built here and there.

We went through five doors and finally arrived at one that was closed.

“That's his room,” I said to my mother.

“And where is he?”

“He must have gone to class!”

“What class does he take?”

“He doesn't go to class anymore, he's a student.”

“A student?” my mother shouted.

She moved to look me properly in the eyes. – So you got pregnant by a student?

Inwardly, I wondered what my mother had against students, while I thought he'd be happy to hear it.

– A student who doesn't eat properly, is that the kind of person you got pregnant by? Oh, is this the mess your womb led you into?

I took a moment to laugh first. Otherwise, how can my mother tell me my womb led me into such trouble! Was my womb in control of my life?

I was still laughing when I heard "paaa" on my left cheek. It was a slap like that.

– I'm talking and you're laughing? Ugly, dirty girl.

Oh yeah! According to my mother, I shouldn't laugh, even if what she said was laced with laughter.

My mother had shamed me in front of a few roommates in the house. Yes, Frédéric was renting. There were more than ten of them in the house.

My mother was still scolding me when the powerful man who got you pregnant appeared.

“Hello, madam!” he said.

“Yes, hello! Is he the man who got you pregnant?”

In the courtyard of the house, people had come out of their respective rooms to come and prick up their ears to listen to whatever my mother was talking about.

Oh, in short, my mother had shamed me that day.