The Unexpected Bride

Chapter 2

“Do you mean you can let me stay here?” She asked carefully.

He studied her for a long moment, silent, unreadable. The air grew heavier, not with threat, but with an almost unbearable stillness.

He finally replied in a cool voice, walking past her to adjust the curtain slightly, letting a narrow shaft of light slice across the floor.

“I said I need someone to be here when I come back. Nothing more.”

He turned halfway, his gaze flicking to her with vague disinterest.

“The room is yours. Food will be stocked. Clothes will show up in your size eventually.” A pause followed.

“Just don’t go snooping. Don’t talk unless necessary. Don’t ask questions.”

A faint breath escaped his lips, as though even speaking that much had drained his tolerance.

“If you can follow that, you can stay. If not... I’ll have someone drop you off where I found you.”

Nova frowned slightly. His words are harsh, she thought, lowering her gaze and clutching the hem of the shirt as if to ground herself. But at least he’s offering me a place... even if he already sounds like he regrets it.

“I understand,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll stay out of your way.”

She didn’t dare meet his eyes again. The tension in the room pressed against her like a weight. Her heart raced with uncertainty, but she reminded herself—a roof, warmth, food... it was better than the streets.

“I won’t be a bother,” she added, more to herself than to him.

He didn’t respond right away. He turned back toward the door, his steps quiet.

“Good,” he said at last, before walking out without another glance, leaving behind the faint scent of coffee and cold silence.

Later in the afternoon, the silence in the house was almost unnerving, too perfect, too controlled. Nova had spent most of the morning exploring her room cautiously, not daring to step beyond its threshold until her stomach made its protest known.

By the afternoon, hunger finally drove her into the hallway.

She walked quietly, bare feet brushing against the marble floor, peeking into the luxurious but coldly decorated space, gray tones, clean lines, and not a single hint of warmth or personality.

When she reached the kitchen, she found it spotless and intimidating, like a place meant to be seen, not used.

The fridge was fully stocked, just as he’d said meals, drinks, even snacks. She quickly put something together and ate in silence at the long dining table, every clink of her spoon echoing too loud in the vast space.

Halfway through her meal, a voice drifted lazily from the living room.

“You’re louder than I expected.”

There he was lounging on the couch, a book in hand, sleeves still rolled up, eyes scanning the page without sparing her a glance.

“Don’t get used to thinking this is some fairy tale,” he added. “You’re not a guest. You’re a fixture.”

The words settled like cold water on her skin. Nova lowered her spoon, appetite gone.

A fixture. Like a lamp. Like furniture.

She sat still for a moment, unsure whether to feel grateful or insulted. Her fingers curled around the table’s edge, but when she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, steady.

“…I understand.”

There was nothing else to say. This wasn’t kindness. It was convenience.

She stood, carried her unfinished bowl to the sink, and rinsed it carefully, like she needed to prove something even if she didn’t know what.

With her back still turned to him, she asked, barely above a whisper, “Do you… always live like this?”

The only sound was the turn of a page. Slow. Deliberate.

Then came his reply, in that same flat tone.

“Alone? Yes.”

He closed the book and set it down beside him.

“It’s easier that way. No noise. No expectations. No one clinging to things they have no right to.”

His eyes lifted to her not angry, not soft, just tired. Detached.

“If you’re going to ask questions, make them worth my time. Otherwise, don’t speak.”

He leaned back, arm resting on the couch. “Now… do you have something worth saying, or are we done here?”

Nova hesitated. “What’s your name?”

“Fletcher.”

“You?”

“…Nova.”

“Good.” He nodded once, slow and unreadable.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.

“I just wanted someone I’d always meet at home. And I found you.”

“But this is… illegal.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Do I look legal?”

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