Chapter 10: Adrain
1051 Words
The mansion had never felt so quiet.There was only silence.The staff had discreetly retired for the evening, leaving only a few lamps burning throughout the house.The wedding was over.He was my husband.The thought settled heavily—and gently—inside my heart.
Not with triumph.
Not with possession.
With gratitude.
I loosened my tie as we climbed the grand staircase together. Neither of us spoke. We were both exhausted.
He walked a step ahead of me, his fingers nervously twisting the edge of his wedding band.
He hadn’t stopped doing that all evening.
When we reached the bedroom door, he hesitated.
I noticed immediately.
“It’s alright,” I said softly.
He looked over his shoulder, managing a small nod before stepping inside.
The room had been prepared while we were at the reception.
Fresh white roses stood in crystal vases.
Candles flickered gently across the fireplace.
The balcony doors had been left slightly open, allowing the cool evening breeze to drift through the room.
Everything had been arranged to be perfect.
Yet all I could think about was the man standing in the middle of the room, looking completely overwhelmed.
He turned slowly, taking everything in.
“You did all this?”
“I asked them to.”
“It’s… beautiful.”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
I smiled.
“I’m glad you like it.”
For several moments, neither of us moved.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
It was simply new.
We had crossed a threshold together, and neither of us quite knew what came next.
“I can have another room prepared,” I offered.
His head lifted in surprise.
“You don’t have to stay here tonight if you’d rather have some space.”
He blinked.
“You’d do that?”
“If that’s what you need.”
He looked down at the floor.
“I… don’t know what I need.”
Honesty.
It was one of the things I admired most about him.
I took a careful step closer.
Only one.
Enough that he could see me clearly, but not enough to crowd him.
“You’ve had a very long day.”
“So have you.”
I laughed quietly.
“That’s true.”
For the first time since we’d entered the room, the corners of his lips lifted.
A small smile.
It made every stressful moment of the day worthwhile.
Without thinking, I reached up and gently brushed a loose curl away from his face.
He froze.
Not because he disliked it.
Because he was uncertain.
I let my hand fall immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“No…”
He shook his head.
“You don’t have to apologise.”
His voice was so quiet I almost missed it.
He took a slow breath.
“You can…”
He hesitated, cheeks warming.
“…hold my hand.”
I stared at him for a moment.
Then, with all the care in the world, I slipped my hand into his.
His fingers were cool.
Slightly trembling.
I didn’t tighten my grip.
I simply let our hands rest together.
His shoulders slowly relaxed.
“It’s strange,” he admitted.
“What is?”
“Wearing this ring.”
He looked down at our joined hands.
“Knowing we’re married.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
He looked at me curiously.
“I’ve imagined this day for months.”
I smiled faintly.
“It still doesn’t feel real.”
His eyes softened.
For a while, we simply stood there in comfortable silence.
Then he looked up at me.
“So…”
“So?”
“I suppose…”
His voice caught.
“…this is usually where people…”
He couldn’t finish the sentence.
His breathing became uneven again.
His eyes filled with uncertainty.
Fear.
Not fear of me.
Fear of the unknown.
I recognised it instantly.
Every instinct in me wanted to pull him close and reassure him.
Instead, I took half a step back.
“You don’t have to.”
His brows knitted together.
“What?”
“You don’t have to be ready tonight.”
He searched my face as if expecting a different answer.
“I mean it.”
“I can wait.”
“A week.”
“A month.”
“A year.”
“As long as it takes.”
His lips parted.
“You… wouldn’t be angry?”
“Never.”
I gently lifted his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“I didn’t marry you for one night.”
“I married you because I want every tomorrow.”
A tear escaped the corner of his eye.
“I’ve been so scared,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“I kept thinking…”
His voice trembled.
“…that if I said no… you’d hate me.”
My heart ached.
“I could never hate you.”
He looked into my eyes, searching for any sign that I wasn’t telling the truth.
Finding none…
He closed the small distance between us.
Very slowly.
Very carefully.
He rested his forehead against my chest.
Not because I asked him to.
Because he chose to.
I wrapped my arms around him gently.
Not tightly.
Just enough for him to know he was safe.
His heartbeat fluttered against me like a frightened bird.
“It’s alright,” I murmured.
“We don’t have to rush anything.”
“We have time.”
He let out a long, shaky breath.
After a moment, he tilted his head back to look at me.
There was still uncertainty in his eyes.
But there was something else now.
Trust.
Just a little.
“I’m glad,” he whispered.
“That you’re my husband.”
My throat tightened.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to deserve hearing those words.”
He smiled—a genuine, unguarded smile that reached his eyes.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d seen all day.
Later that night, after they had changed into comfortable clothes, they sat together on the balcony beneath a sky full of stars, sharing quiet conversation until sleep finally claimed them.Their marriage had begun not with pressure or expectation, but with patience, kindness, and a promise that love would be built one choice at a time.
- Writer
