The Chubby Wife He Couldn't Forget

Chapter 3

DAISY

My legs felt like jelly as Camden and I descended the grand staircase together. His hand was still wrapped around mine...warm, steady, and way too confident for a man who’d just locked me in his bedroom twenty minutes ago.

I’d thrown on my heels in a hurry, but nothing could fix the knot in my stomach. This was really happening. The rich, half-naked god from upstairs was about to meet my disaster of a family.

The sitting room had filled up. Camden’s parents had arrived while we were… occupied. His mother, elegant in pearls and a designer dress, spotted Chloe first and lit up like a Christmas tree. She rushed over, clasping her hands.

“Oh my god, she is so beautiful! I love her already. Such grace, such poise. She’ll fit perfectly into our family.”

Chloe preened, flashing her perfect smile. My stomach twisted. Of course. The thin, pretty one always got the compliments first.

Mom cleared her throat awkwardly. “Um, that’s not her. This is Chloe, our eldest. She’s already engaged and getting married soon. This is Daisy.”

Camden’s mom turned. Her eyes landed on me...really landed. The bright smile on her face faltered, melting into pure disappointment. Her lips parted, then closed. Finally, she managed one flat word.

“Oh.”

The silence that followed punched me right in the chest. I’d heard that “Oh” a thousand times. From boys that I had crushes on. From guys who swiped left faster than lightning. It meant this? We drove all this way for this? My cheeks burned. I wanted to shrink into the expensive carpet and disappear. My fingers twitched in Camden’s grip, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he tightened it, warm and reassuring.

Camden stepped forward, pulling me gently with him. “This is her,” he said clearly, his voice calm but firm. “And I like her. I’m willing to go through with the marriage.”

“What?” His mother cut in sharply, her eyes wide. “Camden, are you sure? Is someone blackmailing you? We can fix this...”

“Enough,” Camden’s father interrupted. It was the first time he’d spoken. His voice was deep and authoritative, cutting through the tension like a knife. “If Camden wants her, then they should get married. It’s his choice. Don’t interfere.”

I blinked back hot tears. No one had ever defended me like that. Not my own dad, who sat there looking relieved that the debt was about to vanish. Not my mom, who was already shooting me warning glances to “suck it in.” But this stranger, this ridiculously hot man who’d caught me trying to jump out his window was choosing me in front of everyone.

Camden’s dad didn’t waste time. He made a quick call, and within minutes, their family attorney swept in with papers. The marriage certificate looked so official it made my head spin. This wasn’t some long engagement. This was fast-tracked, business-deal quick.

Camden signed first without hesitating. His pen scratched across the paper with bold strokes. Then he turned to me, those whiskey eyes soft but intense. He took my hand again, his thumb gently caressing my knuckles. The small touch sent little sparks up my arm. I could feel his support, silent and steady, like he understood every fear racing through my mind.

I hesitated, the pen hovering on my grip. "What am I doing? This man doesn’t know me. My own family barely tolerates me. What if this is just another cage?" My hand shook. But Camden’s fingers stayed on mine, warm and patient. Not pushing. Just… there. For the first time, someone made me feel seen instead of weighed and found wanting.

I signed.

The scratch of the pen echoed in the suddenly quiet room. No cheers. No happy tears. Just heavy silence, like two people hadn’t just legally bound themselves together. My heart hammered against my ribs....part terror, part that stupid little flip from earlier when he called me “wife.”

Dad cleared his throat and stood, shaking hands with Camden’s father like they’d just closed a property deal. “It was nice doing business with you Mr Whitmore.”

The words landed like a slap. "Business." That’s all I was. A debt payment wrapped in chubby skin. I dropped my gaze to the floor again, my shoulders curling inward. The familiar shame flooded back. Mom’s earlier jabs about my dress, my tummy, my everything. They’d sold me, and everyone knew it.

Strong fingers caught my chin, tilting my face up gently but firmly. It was Camden's. Those eyes locked on mine, searching and warm. They really were beautiful up close...golden flecks in the brown, like sunlight through whiskey.

For a second, the rest of the room faded. There was just him, looking at me like I wasn’t a mistake. Like maybe I was something worth choosing.

“Congratulations, wifey,” he said softly, that teasing smile tugging at his lips again.