Chapter 7: Confronting Jasmine
2113 Words
Jasmine stared out of the window of the black Aston Martin, watching the buildings pass by, trying her best not to think about all she discussed with her family a few minutes ago. Jasmine’s chest tightened as her family’s voices echoed in her memory.
“You left eight years ago just to come back to leech off the family like you normally do. Now that you are back, our lives won’t be peaceful anymore.”
Her mother’s accusation had cut through her like a sharp blade. She thought she had gone numb to all this after eight years of not hearing from each other, but the wound still bled inside her. Her mother’s disapproving glare, her father’s nonchalant self, and Yvonne's hateful snare was still vivid in her mind.
Eight f*****g years and nothing had changed. They still saw her as a burden — a mistake, an inconvenience. Her reflection on the tinted glass looked pale, drained, as though the encounter had sucked the last bit of strength from her.
Ethan made sure he sat far away from her on the opposite side of the back seat, staring outside the window. The silence between them wasn’t comfortable. The air was thick. They look less like newlyweds, and more like enemies forced into the same room.
An hour later, the black Aston Martin finally pulled to a slow halt in front of a glass penthouse, the type that reflected the city lights like a crystal crown. The building rose so high, mirroring the surface as it reflected the moonlight in a sharp glint.
Ethan stepped out without glancing at Jasmine’s direction. He didn’t care to offer a hand, didn’t bother to know if she could help herself out of the car with her enormous wedding dress, paired with eight-inch heels.
With long, controlled steps, he strides toward the entrance, as though the floor would crack open if he lost an ounce of composure.
Jasmine didn’t expect much from her Mr. Grumpy. She took a deep breath as if saying who cares and see where this situation leads them.
“Negotiating and getting along with a grumpy man like Ethan is going to be really difficult.” She muttered under her breath. She opens the car door carefully, but her heels instantly tangle with her wedding dress.
She wobbled, almost losing her footing and hissed. “Wonderful. I’m going to break a leg before this marriage even begins. One step into married life and I’m already auditioning for a slow-motion disaster movie.”
“Be careful Mrs. Morgan.” The driver rushed forward to help her, his hands steadying her before stepping back.
“Thank you Mr. Driver. And please call me Jasmine.” She said with a strained smile, embarrassed by the disaster unfolding around her, while the driver nodded.
By the time she caught up to Ethan, he had already scanned his access card and opened the penthouse door. They stepped into the private elevator that whisked them straight to the top floor.
When the penthouse door slid open, revealing a breathtaking interior: floor-to-ceiling glass walls, soft golden lights reflecting the elegant furniture. Jasmine barely had the chance to take a full step inside before she was cornered.
Ethan slammed his hand against the wall beside her head. His fists were tightly clenched, as if fighting the urge to hit her. Jasmine froze, eyes widened.
“Your flirting skills haven’t changed even after eight years. You won’t even let a driver go…” His gaze bore into her, raw and painful.
The pictures from eight years ago kept on flashing in his mind, intertwining with how his driver had wrapped his arms around her earlier.
“What?” Jasmine was taken aback by his malicious comment. ‘How dare he? I didn’t even know him before the wedding. Flirting skills? What the f**k is he talking about?’
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Ethan’s jaw clenched as he saw her still pretending. Without thinking, he grabbed her arm harshly.
“You are a perfect actress, Jasmine. Those looks in your eyes are perfect. So innocent, so fragile — almost enough to make me believe you really don’t know me.”
Jasmine tried to free herself from his grip, her expression full of confusion. ‘Just perfect, not only did I marry an enemy, he might also be a psychopath.’
Ethan stepped closer, his eyes blazing. “How dare you get married to me after what you did eight years ago? You are f*****g brave, and I really applaud you for that.”
Jasmine swallowed, heart pounding. She so much wanted to shout at Ethan, to slap some sense into him, but she couldn’t risk that. From the look of things, no one else was inside the penthouse. She can’t risk Ethan physically hurting her.
Her hands clenched at her sides, trying to control her anger. “We can talk this out amicably, Ethan. We don’t need to become physical with each other.”
Ethan’s glare didn’t soften, instead, it became hotter. His grip on her arm tightened for a few seconds, just enough to remind her of his strength, then release it.
“Talk this out? Amicably?” His voice was low, almost dangerous.
“Do you have any idea what it feels like to get played by you? Do you know how stupid I felt searching for you everywhere to at least have you explain yourself, but it seems you vanished from the surface of the earth, and now here you are, married to me, and you want me to just play along as if there wasn’t any history between us?”
Jasmine flinched at his words. Did she really have a history with Ethan? Why didn’t she remember anything about it? The accident she was involved in years ago, did she have selective amnesia or something? Why didn’t Dr. Andrew tell her about it? Her head hurts as she thinks about all this.
“Ethan,” Jasmine gathered some courage as she called softly. “What if I told you I don’t remember anything about us? I’ve been abroad for the past eight years. Maybe something happened that made me forget about you. I’m sorry.”
Ethan shut his eyes tightly, trying not to soften. If this was eight years ago, Jasmine’s apology might touch him. All he felt for her at the moment was pure hatred.
Without saying a word, Ethan turned, rounding the stairs. Jasmine watched as his back disappeared into the distance, his hands still tightly clenched beside him, as if restraining some internal storm.
Jasmine walked towards the sofa and collapsed on it. She was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. She took in a deep breath, trying to remember if Ethan was ever in her memories as he claimed, but nothing was pulling up. Instead, her head hurts.
Jasmine took in a shaky breath. Her married life already feels like a battlefield within twenty-four hours. Will she be able to walk out of it alive? She wasn’t able to control her body. Sleep overtook her before she could think further, dragging her into a deep, troubled rest.
*****
The next morning,
Jasmine yawned as she walked into the kitchen. It was huge and clean, looking as if it hadn’t been in use for ages. She hadn’t eaten much yesterday, and she quickly wanted to make some breakfast for herself.
A short time later, a strong smell of coffee filled the kitchen. Jasmine quickly made some omelette with the ingredients she could find in the kitchen.
Her back was facing the door, so she didn’t see Ethan was standing behind her, his eyes burning into her pale white skin, as if trying to etch her in his memories.
“I remember falling asleep on the couch yesterday. Who was so gentle enough to carry me to bed? The person even changed my dress.” Jasmine muttered as she ate her breakfast, her expression comical.
With no one to give her an answer, she continued speculating. “Did the maids do it? Is it my grumpy husband?” The thought of Ethan changing her dress sent chills down her spine. She playfully shook her body.
“Jasmine, don’t have any expectations. He hates you more than anyone else. He wouldn’t mind strangling you to death instead of helping out.” Jasmine continued speaking, not knowing that Ethan was already seething with anger behind her.
“Hypocrite.” Ethan murmured, his lips twitching. He was in his study earlier when he noticed some small movements downstairs. Knowing that it was no one else but his wife, he didn’t know how he left his work and walked downstairs, just to see what she was up to.
He could have easily accessed her through the CCTV footage, but he didn’t. After analyzing his confrontation with her all night, he felt that she might be telling the truth. And if she was pretending, she is really good at it.
All he was waiting for was Peter’s report. He had asked him to dig out all information on her for the past eight years. Where had she been? Soon, he will get his hands on why she vanished, and with whom. Ethan's heart was still full of hatred for Jasmine, but the pull of attraction between them seemed like it hadn’t changed much.
He wants to be where she is, monitoring her. A part of him felt like all this was a dream, another lie. To get his revenge on her for all the pain she made him suffer for the past few years, he wouldn't let her go. He wants to torture her slowly. He convinced himself in his mind, but a part of him knew he was lying.
After finishing her breakfast, Jasmine began wiping down the counter, accidentally knocking over the mug she just finished using. The remaining coffee spilled all over the floor, the mug shattered.
“Great, my first day being a wife, I’m already spilling coffee. Maybe I should invest in some non-slip shoes.” She let out a little, bitter laugh. Ethan was still standing not far away, not making any sound. His eyes were calmly studying her.
The scene felt familiar. She hadn’t changed much, or maybe she never changed, except from the fact that she was pretending not to know him.
Jasmine grabbed a towel, cursing at her clumsiness as she wiped the floor. “Grandpa forced me to get married to a devil who not only hates me. First, the awkward wedding, my parents' hurtful words, last night's confrontation, and now this. At this rate, the fire department might need to be on special dial.”
Ethan's ears caught her first sentence, questions filled in his head. ‘She was forced to marry me?’ He had thought that she had used some despicable way to get his father to get them married. He never knew she was forced by her grandfather, just like himself.
“That should be enough.” Jasmine whispered as she gently stand up. She didn’t notice there was a piece of a broken mug at the back of her feet.
“Careful.” Ethan rushed forward without thinking. His voice made Jasmine spin around, and her foot slipped on the still damp floor. She let out a sharp yelp, arms flailing.
Strong arms caught her just in time, pulling her close to steady her. Jasmine’s heart leapt into her throat as she saw who just prevented her from falling.
“Ethan…,” she whispered, mouth agape.
She blinked, frozen in place. Their faces were inches apart. His warm body pressed against hers naturally, his strong arms drawing her closer.
He swallowed hard, and she noticed it. Looking at his handsome face this close, she finds him less annoying. He was quite handsome. His lips were slightly thin. Ethan was also looking at her familiar, small, beautiful, palm-sized face.
Her small mouth was really tempting. His head was screaming at him to release his grip, but his body was saying otherwise. Without realizing it, he was already inches away from her lips. Jasmine wanted to push him away, but her body felt like it had lost its strength.
Jasmine’s heart raced, but before anything could happen, a loud gasp cut through the moment.
Ethan straightened up, his arm wrapped around Jasmine, who was about to lose her footing due to shock. They both turned towards the source, Ethan’s expression unreadable, while Jasmine’s face was beet red.
“Oh my God…” a middle aged woman stood by the door, frozen, eyes widened in shock.
- Writer
