Episode 2 The Reluctant Bride 👰‍♀
1308 Words
Episode 2 – The Reluctant Bride
Emma barely remembered how she made it home that night. The city blurred past her taxi window—headlights streaking like comets, neon signs bleeding into one another, voices and car horns weaving a restless symphony. Yet none of it registered. Her heart’s pounding was louder than the city itself, each thud rattling her ribs until she thought she might crack apart.
Her bag sat on her lap like a leaden stone, heavier than her whole body. Inside it, the folder Alexander Frost had pushed across his desk lay like a curse she couldn’t escape. Every jolt of the car made her grip it tighter. The word contract burned against her chest, though she hadn’t even dared to read every page.
Marriage. Not love. Not devotion. Not romance. A business arrangement, dressed in legal terms. A noose made of silk.
When she finally stepped into her tiny apartment, its familiar smell of stale coffee, detergent, and dust hit her like a wave. Normally, that scent grounded her—it was home. But tonight, it only deepened her despair. She dropped her keys on the chipped counter and slumped into the single chair that had been hers since college.
For a moment she just sat there, staring at the folder.
Her reflection caught in the cracked mirror across the room. Pale face. Tangled hair. Hollow eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Not a bride. Not even a woman in love. Just a girl cornered by fate, too tired to keep running.
Her fingers fumbled with the folder clasp. She spread the sleek white pages across the table, black ink glaring up at her with cold, final precision. Clauses about confidentiality. Living arrangements. Public appearances. Financial allowances. Rules for her behavior, her dress, her words. Even her private life was to be shaped to his will.
The Ice King had thought of everything.
Emma’s stomach clenched. What kind of man needed this much control? And what kind of woman would ever agree to it?
Her hand brushed her phone. She almost called the hospital to hear Daniel’s breathing, to reassure herself he was still there. Instead, she closed her eyes and whispered into the dark:
What am I becoming?
---
The next morning, Emma dragged herself back to the hospital.
The corridors smelled of antiseptic and something sharper—fear, maybe. Nurses in scrubs bustled past, their sneakers squeaking faintly against the linoleum floors. Emma had spent so many hours here she knew the rhythm of the place: the morning rounds, the medication carts, the endless beeping of machines.
When she slipped into Daniel’s room, he was awake. Too awake. His thin fingers tapped the blanket in a steady rhythm, a sign his restless energy hadn’t been completely crushed by illness. His eyes lit up when he saw her.
“You look like you fought a tornado,” he teased, his voice hoarse but playful.
Emma managed a laugh, setting her bag carefully on the chair. “You should see the tornado.”
But her laugh didn’t reach her eyes, and Daniel noticed. He always noticed.
“You’re hiding something,” he said after a pause, studying her with the same sharp perception that had gotten him into trouble in school.
Emma busied herself with fluffing his pillow. “Don’t be silly.”
“You always fuss when you’re lying.” His lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. “Just like Mom used to. Come on, Em. I know you found something.”
Her throat tightened. She wanted to shield him, to keep him away from Alexander Frost’s shadow. But his gaze was steady, piercing, older than his seventeen years.
“Maybe,” she whispered finally. “But it’s… complicated.”
Daniel shifted, wincing. “Then do it. Whatever it is. I don’t care if it’s crazy. Don’t give up. I want to live, Em. I want to see twenty. I want to play football again, eat suya at midnight, fall in love. Isn’t that worth something?”
Tears pricked her eyes. She clasped his hand, swallowing hard. “It’s worth everything.”
The steady beep of the monitor filled the silence. Emma brushed his hair back gently, memorizing the warmth of his hand in hers. She couldn’t let him down. Not now.
---
By evening, Emma stood again in front of Frost Enterprises.
The skyscraper loomed against the night sky, glass and steel reflecting the city lights until it looked like a frozen giant, untouchable and cold. She tilted her head back, her heart hammering. Every instinct screamed at her to turn away, to flee back to the life she knew.
But Daniel’s words followed her. I want to live.
Her feet carried her inside. The receptionist barely glanced up this time before directing her to the elevator. Emma’s stomach churned as the floor numbers ticked higher.
The elevator doors opened into silence. She approached the great door—Alexander Frost, CEO—her hands trembling. She knocked once.
“Enter.”
The voice was calm, commanding.
Inside, Alexander stood by the window, the city sprawling beneath him like his private empire. He wore his suit like armor, his posture rigid, every inch of him carved from shadow and control.
“You came back,” he said without turning. His tone was calm, but satisfaction threaded beneath the words.
Emma clasped her hands, steadying her voice. “You knew I would.”
At that, he turned, gray eyes locking on her. “Yes. Desperation silences hesitation.”
Shame and anger burned in her chest. “This isn’t easy for me.”
“Good.” He set down his glass of amber liquor, each movement deliberate. “If it were easy, you wouldn’t value it.”
Her gaze dropped to the folder on the desk. Waiting. Ready.
“Have you decided?” His voice carried no doubt, only expectation.
Emma stepped closer, lowering herself into the chair. Her voice shook, but her words were clear. “If I sign this, you’ll cover everything? The surgery, treatments, bills?”
“Every expense,” he said smoothly. “Your brother will have the best care money can buy. Money will never be your concern again.”
“And in return,” she whispered, “I become your… wife.”
“For one year.” His lips curved faintly, though there was no warmth. “Think of it as employment, Miss Rivers. A role to play. Only instead of an office, you’ll have a title: Mrs. Alexander Frost.”
Emma’s throat tightened. She imagined walking beside him at glittering galas, smiling for flashing cameras, pretending to be cherished by a man who didn’t believe in love. Could she live that lie for twelve months?
Daniel’s face appeared in her mind. I want to see twenty.
Her hand trembled as she picked up the pen.
Alexander’s gaze didn’t waver. Cold. Testing. Measuring.
The words blurred through her tears as she scrawled her name across the line: Emma Rivers.
When the pen clattered softly onto the desk, her chest felt hollow, as if she’d signed away more than paper.
Alexander reached for the contract, scanning it quickly before closing it with a soft, decisive thud. “It’s done.”
“That’s it?” she asked faintly.
“That’s it.” His gray eyes lingered on her face, unreadable. “You are now, legally, Mrs. Frost.”
The words struck her harder than she expected. Identity, freedom, future—suddenly bound to him.
He extended his hand, palm steady, command etched into the gesture. “Welcome to your new life.”
Emma stared at his hand, dread curling in her stomach. And yet, for Daniel, she placed her palm against his. His grip was firm, unyielding, sealing a pact she could never undo.
Her fate was no longer her own.
- Writer
