Chapter 2: The Stranger’s Home
1478 Words
The ride to Liam’s home was a strange mix of silence and tension. Amelia sat stiffly in the leather seat, clutching her wedding bouquet like a lifeline. The day's events replayed in her mind like a bad dream—Darius’ betrayal, Sophia’s guilt-ridden but satisfied face, and now, her impulsive decision to marry a stranger.
Liam sat beside her, his expression unreadable. He seemed almost too calm for someone who had just married a woman he met less than two hours ago.
“Where are we going?” Amelia finally asked, breaking the silence.
“To my family home,” Liam replied, glancing at her briefly. “A series of things will happen in the next few hours. You'll probably.. no, I'm sure you'll be flustered but just accept it. You chose to marry me. It’s… complicated to explain now, but you'll understand soon. Also, my mother will want to meet you.”
“Your mother?” Amelia repeated, fear creeping into her voice. She didn't think as far as meeting her new husband's family. What if she had married into a problematic family, and this was the real start of her life struggles? Amelia cleared her throat and spoke. “Does she know what happened?”
“She knows just what she needs to know. Don't worry, she won't judge your status or anything. She doesn't need a specific type of bride. She just needs a bride. The bride she chose bailed out, and now here you are. I don't know if I should call you lucky or not.”
The conversation ended there, leaving Amelia with more questions than answers.
---
The Caldwell estate loomed ahead, a huge glass and stone structure surrounded by manicured gardens. Amelia’s heart skipped a beat as the car pulled up the long driveway. Everything about the place screamed wealth and power. Amelia wondered why a family of this caliber had to look for a bride or why a bride would run away from marrying a son of the Caldwell family.
A woman in her mid-fifties stood at the entrance, regal in a tailored dress and pearls. Her dark hair was streaked with silver strands, and her sharp blue eyes were fixed on Amelia as she stepped out of the car; the driver also helped Liam exit the car before driving away.
“You must be Amelia,” the woman said, sounding distinct and polite. She offered a tight smile and extended her hand. “I’m Eleanor Caldwell, Liam’s mother.”
Amelia shook her hand hesitantly. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Caldwell.”
“Welcome to your new home, Amelia.” Eleanor turned to Liam, her expression softening. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll take it from here.”
Liam nodded as he wheeled himself past his mother without a word. Eleanor’s gaze remained on Amelia's face, unwilling to leave, as if scrutinizing her from head to toe. Seeing if she was suitable for her son.
“I understand this must be overwhelming for you,” Eleanor said, leading Amelia into the grand corridor of the house. “But I appreciate what you’ve done for my son.”
Amelia blinked in confusion. “What I’ve done?”
Eleanor’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Marrying him, of course. It couldn’t have been easy, making a decision to marry a stranger just like that, especially when he's on a wheelchair. Also, I learnt that your husband to-be left your wedding. It must have been hard, just marrying another man.”
The mention of her disastrous wedding sent a fresh wave of humiliation through Amelia, but she swallowed it down. She just met Eleanor, and she already knew so much. Was that family so desperate for a bride? Was it because he can't walk?
“I don't have that kind of prejudice, but you're welcome. I'm also grateful that your son agreed to marry me.” she muttered, unsure what else to say.
Eleanor gestured for Amelia to follow her up the wide staircase. “Let me show you to your room. I’m sure you’d like to rest.”
The guest room was larger than Amelia’s entire apartment. The sunlight reflected through the tall windows, glowing warmly on the plush furniture and pristine decor.
“You won't have to leave this house on your own, so give me your address and I’ll have someone bring up your things into this place.” Eleanor said, pausing at the door.
“Ah, there's no need for that. I don't need lots of things from there, so I'll go bring my things by myself. I won't run away, so you can put your mind at rest.”
Eleanor smiled; Amelia knew what she was thinking. “Alright, dear, if you need help, just ask me. And Amelia… thank you again. You’ve done more for this family than you realize.”
Amelia frowned as the door closed behind her. Eleanor’s gratitude felt misplaced, almost unsettling, and too much. What exactly had she done more than marry the son in a wheelchair? Why was she being looked at like the savior of the Caldwell family?
---
Later that evening, Eleanor invited Amelia to dinner. The table was set for three, though Liam was notably absent.
“Where’s your son?” Amelia asked, trying to fill the awkward silence.
“Oh, he’s around,” Eleanor replied smoothly, cutting into her steak. “He’ll join us soon.”
As the meal dragged on in awkward silence, Amelia’s unease Something was off about this Caldwell family. Liam didn't show up for dinner either. As the maids packed the plates off the dining table, Liam wheeled himself into the dining room.
“Why weren’t you at dinner?” Eleanor demanded, adjusting herself on the chair.
Liam looked up, his green eyes flashing with something unreadable. “Wasn’t hungry.”
“You're home, you don't have to wheel yourself around and give yourself headache.” Eleanor spoke.
He smirked. “And ruin the surprise?”
Before Isabelle could ask what they both meant, Liam stood.
Amelia froze.
“You… you’re standing, you can walk.” she stammered.
“As a matter of fact,” Liam said dryly, walking toward her. He sat in front of her by the dining table.
“But—why were you in a wheelchair?”
He didn’t answer immediately; he looked at his mother as if asking permission to speak. Eleanor nodded, and Liam started talking.
“See, Amelia, the man you married isn’t me.”
Amelia’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”
“The name signed on the marriage registry wasn’t mine, I guess you weren't observant enough to notice that.” Liam said, his voice low and deliberate. “It belongs to my brother—Derek Caldwell.”
“Derek?” Amelia repeated, her voice trembling.
“Yes. He’s upstairs… in a coma.”
Amelia felt like the room was spinning. She gripped the edge of the dining table to steady herself. “I… I married a man in a coma? Why were you there in your brother's place? Why didn't you tell me before I signed the papers? Why did your even do it?”
Liam’s signature smirk returned, but there was no humor in it. “My mother needed someone to marry him. To secure our family’s legacy.”
“And you… you just went along with it?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” He said, grabbing a glass from the table. “But neither did you, Amelia. You signed the papers.”
Her mind reeled. Everything about this day had been a whirlwind of betrayal and impulsive decisions. And now, she was tied to a man she’d never met—a man who might never wake up.
“I want answers,” she demanded, her voice shaking. She faced Eleanor, who had been quiet as if she hadn't heard the conversation. “Why would you do this? Why would you go to the extent of finding a bride for your son in a coma?”
Eleanor’s expression darkened. “Because in this family, duty comes first. You’d do well to remember that. The duty of the firstborn son is to carry in the family's legacy, he's in a coma, he can't possibly do that, right? So, I, as his mother, am helping him do just that. Why? You don't have prejudice against disabled people but you have it against comatose patients? You're Derek Caldwell's wife now and you'll carry on the legacy of this family. You already signed the contract.”
---
Amelia returned to her room; her thoughts were a chaotic mess. She didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or laugh at the absurdity of all that happened. But one thing was certain—her life would never be the same.
- Writer
