Five Minutes
There were no flowers
No music No guests
Just that empty hall, smelling of old wood and rain seeping through some crack in the ceiling
The windows were foggy, and the light that came through seemed sick, as if it knew what was about to happen
I stood in the middle, not sure if I had legs or if I’d left them at the door
He was there, standing so straight I thought he might snap if he moved
He didn’t even look at me like I was a person, more like a paper he had to sign and file away
You have five minutes to say yes, he said, no greeting, no courtesy, nothing
I laughed low, dry, a laugh that sounded more like a cough than anything else
Not because it was funny but because if I didn’t laugh I’d cry
And what if I say no, I asked, trying to sound firm but my voice cracked at the end
He tilted his head barely, like someone watching an insect before squashing it
Your family wouldn’t last a month
He didn’t say it as a threat, he stated it as fact and that made it worse
Something inside my chest twisted
I looked at him and remembered other times before, when his gray eyes weren’t blades but refuge
But now, now they pierced me like they wanted to break me from the inside
Why, I managed to ask, I don’t know if it was to understand or to buy time
He smiled, a smile so faint it was frightening
You already know
Of course I knew, or at least I thought I did
But in that moment I realized I didn’t know anything, there were pieces he never showed me
The invisible clock kept ticking, each second tightening my stomach
I could say no, I could walk away
But I couldn’t see my mother on the street, my brother selling what little remained
And he knew it, he always knew
Five minutes, he repeated, slower this time, like savoring each word
The rain hit the glass
Outside, the city went on unaware that inside, a woman was about to sell her life
My heart was pounding so hard I thought he could hear it
I imagined his hand signing the contract, imagined everyone’s eyes when I appeared as his wife, imagined what would come next
One step
Another
I was three meters from him, feeling like I was walking into a cell
I wanted to stop but my feet kept moving
I accept, I whispered
His gaze softened for a second, but it wasn’t tenderness, it was satisfaction
The hunter closing the trap
Then, without giving me time to process what I’d done, he pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table
Sign
I took it, my hands shaking so much the paper almost slipped
The envelope was warm, or maybe it was my fingers burning with rage
I opened it
I read it
And on the third line I saw something that froze my blood
It wasn’t just a marriage contract, there was a clause that…
I looked at him, searching for a sign that this was a joke
But there was nothing funny in his expression
What is this, I asked, my voice dry
He stepped closer, so close I smelled his cologne, the same from years ago, the same that once made me close my eyes and forget everything
That is what makes sure you don’t try to run
I froze
The rain, the cold, the fear, all mixed into one knot that left me breathless
I knew that if I signed, there would be no turning back
And yet, the pen was already in my hand
