"I'm being forced to marry someone I don't want to," he admitted, his voice quieter, shoulders tense.
"Forced?" I echoed, confusion twisting in my mind. Why would a grown man be forced into marriage?
"So, you want a contract, wife?" I asked, carefully choosing my words. He was my boss, after all-I had to tread carefully.
"Don't you think it's best to stand firm in your decision not to marry her? Or better yet, find someone you actually love?"
I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't see the obstacle in front of me. Suddenly, I collided with his solid-hard behind.
"Ouch!" I winced, rubbing my nose as I stumbled back.
He spun, his icy glare locking onto me like a predator sizing up its prey.
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My palms felt clammy, and my fingers twitched at my sides. Did I say something wrong?
"Do I need to explain myself to you?" His voice was low, edged with something dark.
I swallowed hard and shook my head. My heart pounded against my ribs, the words caught in my throat.
"Do I need to take advice or orders from you?" he pressed, stepping closer.
This time, I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated. My gaze dropped to my toes, the confidence I'd felt moments ago vanishing. "No, Sir. I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn."
Silence.
The tension in the room was suffocating. I could hear his controlled breathing and feel the weight of his stare pressing against me.
"Listen, Nelly," he said, at last, his voice even but firm. "This marriage will be purely contractual. No strings attached. In public, we'll pretend to be a loving couple. In private, we go our separate ways." His eyes burned into mine, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "Especially for my parents-we just need to convince them we're in love so they'll stop meddling."
He exhaled slowly before continuing. "If you agree, I'll take care of your grandmother's medical bills. It's just for a year, and then we both walk away. No complications, no expectations."
My breath hitched.
His words settled over me like a storm cloud-offering relief and danger all at once.
I should say no.
I should walk away.
But my grandmother's hospital bills...
"I don't know," I murmured, curling and uncurling my toes inside my shoes.
"I'll give you time to think about it," he said, slipping a hand into his pocket. "Take a week off work to clear your head."
He extended a sleek, black business card toward me.
I hesitated, then took it, tucking it into my bag without looking at it.
---
Later, I went grocery shopping. Ever since my grandmother's hospitalization, I hadn't been able to stand living alone, so I moved in with Emily.
The grocery store buzzed with life-women chatting over fresh produce, carts squeaking against the tiled floor. The scent of ripe tomatoes and crushed herbs filled the air, but I barely noticed.
I picked up a cart and wheeled it toward the vegetable section, my mind still reeling.
A contract marriage.
Was this what my life had come to?
On one hand, my grandmother's medical expenses would be covered. On the other... I'd be marrying a man I barely knew, bound by a contract rather than love.
What would Grandma say?
I let out a breath, staring at the heads of lettuce and bundles of spinach in front of me without really seeing them.
Then, out of nowhere-
A sharp sting exploded across my cheek.
The force knocked my head to the side. My breath caught in my throat, and my hands flew to my burning face.
Gasps rippled through the store.
Shock rooted me to the spot. My skin stung, the imprint of her fingers still fresh.
"Candice!" a voice exclaimed. "Why would you do that?"
My vision snapped into focus. My heart pounded as I turned my head-
And there she was.
A red-haired woman stood before me, fury burning in her eyes. My fingers curled into tight fists at my sides, my knuckles turning white.
Her lips twisted into a sneer. "Stupid bitch."