"Dad, I said I don't want to marry him," Lilia spoke quietly as she stared at her father in disbelief. Was he seriously saying this to her?
They sat on the sofa in the small living room of the tiny, apartment-like house. It was a one-bedroom flat, and from where she sat, Lilia could already guess which room belonged to her father—the smaller one looked more like a guest room.
"Please, you have to," her father pleaded again.
It wasn't like she had a problem with the place—no, not at all. In fact, she might even be able to stay here. But what truly stunned her was how drastically things had changed. One accident—just one—and her father had gone from being one of the wealthy to living in a modest one-bedroom flat. That alone shocked her more than anything.
She shook her head in disbelief as she finally spoke.
"Father, like I said earlier, I'm not marrying him."
Her father's voice came low and quiet.
