The swapped Bride

**Mia's POV**

I found myself lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, seeking refuge from the incessant ringing of my phone-an unwelcome reminder of the pressures awaiting me at home. It seemed like every time I sought solace with Charlotte, her world of carefree indulgence stood in stark contrast to the turmoil I faced.

"Mia! Mia!" Charlotte's voice sliced through my reverie, snapping me back to the present moment.

"What is it now? Why are you shouting my name? Do I owe you something?" I snapped back, my frustration bubbling over like an unchecked storm.

"Seriously? Your phone's been buzzing non-stop since you got here yesterday, and you haven't picked up once. Please tell me it's not your parents again," Charlotte's voice held a note of concern, her eyes searching mine for answers.

"Why are you asking me? Did they send you here too? Why is everyone in my life so damn irritating?" I groaned, rising abruptly from the couch and pacing across the living room.

"I get it now! Another showdown with your parents about marriage?" Charlotte followed me, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.

"Yes! I'm fed up with their constant badgering. Is marriage some kind of compulsory life sentence now? I refuse to be trapped by some guy hiding behind that institution. Once I save enough for my own place, I'm out of that damn house. Let's see if they continue their silly marriage talks then," I spat out bitterly, my words laced with defiance and the pent-up anger of years.

"I understand why they're pushing you. If only you had a boyfriend, they might be more patient," Charlotte offered tentatively, her voice softening as she tried to bridge the gap between us.

"I can't do that. I've sworn off guys after what my ex did to me," I admitted quietly, the memory of past heartbreak casting a long shadow over my resolve.

"I hear you. Been there, burned by that. But maybe if you just pretend, find a guy like mine to toy with, it might appease your parents," Charlotte suggested cautiously, testing the waters with her unconventional advice.

"No way. You're braver than I am, and I have a conscience. If I tried that, guilt would eat me alive. Pretending is not my forte," I shook my head firmly, knowing my principles wouldn't bend even under parental pressure.

Before our conversation could delve any deeper, Charlotte's phone buzzed insistently, breaking the tension between us.

"Who's that? I hope it's not my mom trying to check up on me through you," I asked sharply, wary of any intrusion from my own family.

"No, it's the devil himself-my ATM, my boyfriend," Charlotte grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with amusement at the nickname she had bestowed upon him.

"Really? Answer it. Let's hear what he has to say," I urged, curiosity getting the better of me as I wondered what kind of person could earn such a title from Charlotte.

"Nope, not in the mood for his mundane chit-chat," she dismissed casually, waving off the call with a flick of her hand.

"Mundane chit-chat? Then why bother? Just dump him. You've got your own job and money," I said, a twinge of envy seeping into my voice as I contemplated Charlotte's seemingly carefree attitude towards relationships.

"Sure, I have a job. What about you? Still depending on your parents for everything?" Charlotte countered, her tone sharpening as she defended her choices.

"At least I'm not tied down. Anyway, answer it and spare the poor guy," I sighed, the contrast between our lives weighing heavily on my mind.

"Fine," she relented reluctantly, picking up the call with a half-hearted smile that failed to reach her eyes.

As Charlotte delved into conversation, I wandered off, seeking a moment's respite from the chaos of our discussion. Eventually, I found my own phone, its screen aglow with a text from my mom. Reading it aloud, the words carried both a glimmer of hope and a tinge of futility.

"'Please, do whatever you want. We miss you and won't pressure you anymore. Come back home,'" I recited aloud, the familiar plea stirring up a mixture of guilt and longing within me.

I let the phone slip from my fingers, sinking onto the nearest chair, overwhelmed by the weight of my own decisions. My mother's promises felt hollow, echoes of previous assurances that had crumbled under the weight of familial expectations.

I couldn't think straight. Returning home now meant enduring more lectures about my career prospects, enduring endless dinner table discussions about marriage. Perhaps leaving for good was the solution, despite their apologies and empty promises.

"Mia! Mia!" Charlotte's voice pierced through my thoughts once more, drawing me back to the present.

"She's probably coming to brag about what her billionaire boyfriend said. I'm tired of hearing about everything he does," I thought bitterly, my frustration mounting once again at the stark contrast between our lives.

"What now? Why are you calling my name again?" I snapped at Charlotte, my patience wearing thin under the weight of my own insecurities.

"Guess what?" Charlotte's eyes danced with excitement, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"What? Is your billionaire boyfriend buying you another car? Why should I care when I've got my own problems?" I retorted, unable to hide the bitterness that crept into my voice.

"Nope. Get ready, we're going to a party. Nicholas, my human ATM, is planning a surprise bash for me," she giggled, her excitement infectious despite my reluctance.

"What? Why is he throwing a party if there's no special occasion?" I frowned, bewildered by the extravagance of Nicholas's gestures.

"This is why I tell you, find a wealthy guy who'll pamper you like a princess," she teased, her words stinging with a hint of truth that I couldn't ignore.

"Whatever. I'm not going anywhere. I have my own life to figure out," I muttered defiantly, retreating into Charlotte's room to collect my thoughts away from her relentless optimism.