Love

"So, Charlie, what did you have to say?" the president inquired, his voice firm but curious, his eyes fixed intently on him.

Charlie took a long, deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort, as he gathered his thoughts. "I am sorry, Mr. President," he began, his words direct and unambiguous, "but I don't know what you and my father must have discussed. However, your proposal for me to marry your daughter doesn't seem possible," he explained, his tone polite but assertive, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

The president's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered Charlie's words. The room was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning, as the weight of his response hung in the balance.

"Why did you think so?" the President asked, his tone inquiring and non-confrontational, his eyes seeking understanding. "She's a beautiful and loving lady, and I know you're the right man for her. Tell me, why can't you be with her?"

C