Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

~Allen Family House~

The study was well lit and silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner that kept it comfortably warm and the rustle of paper.

Elder Allen sat behind a large mahogany desk. His face was pale, his eyes ringed with fatigue.Every now and then, he rubbed his temples before focusing back on the papers spread out in front of him.

The door creaked open, and Alfred stepped in quietly, a cup of tea in hand. His face was tight with concern and worry.

"Sir" he said softly, placing the tea on the table. "Wouldn’t it be better to rest for a while? Please. This isn’t worth your health." he said, his voice laced with concern.

Elder Allen looked up, his tired eyes meeting Alfred’s. He gave a small, weary smile but didn’t stop reviewing the documents.

"Jessica was very clear, sir," Alfred added, voice strained. "No stress. Eat healthy and take your medication once every two days. That’s the only way to recover, she said."

"I remember." The old man sighed. "But these matters won’t wait."

He had always remembered her warning and instructions concerning his health and knowing his body very he knew he had exceeded his limit but there are things to put together, things to keep from falling into the wrong hands.

Alfred’s heart clenched. For days now, Elder Allen had grown weaker. He ate little, barely slept, and stayed locked in his study more than ever. His breathing was heavier. He moved slower. There is only one reason for that — Elder Allen’s health had worsened.

Though, Alfred wasn’t a doctor, but he knew that stress and emotional pain were likely making things worse.