The Pretend Bride

Ava’s pov. I fidgeted with my dress, my heart racing with every passing second. The tension in the air was palpable because I refused my parents' wishes to marry Harrison Green, a man twice my age. I had begged my parents to reconsider, but they wouldn't budge. "Dad, please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Can't we just turn back? I don't want to do this. Please dad, mum...” My father's expression was stern. "Ava, we've discussed this. You're going to marry Harrison, and that's final." My mother placed a hand on my arm. "Ava , dear, it's for the best. You'll see." I mumbled a curse word under my breath and hoped it did not reach my father’s ears. I couldn't go through with this. I do not love that old man. Just then, the car sputtered and came to a stop. My father got out to investigate, muttering something about the engine. "Mom, can I use the restroom?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. My mother nodded distractedly. "Fine, dear. But hurry up." I didn't need to be told twice. I flung open the door and ran, my long wedding dress fluttering behind me. I didn't dare look back, fearing what I might see. I spotted a church up ahead and dashed towards it, slamming the door shut behind me. I leaned against it, panting, and closed my eyes in relief. I had escaped. For now. “She’s here,” a deep voice said and the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears. My eyes shut open, and I noticed a man standing before me, his eyes void of any emotion. He was tall, with piercing blue eyes and chiseled features. He took my hand, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "Diane, you're late," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind. But it is better late than never, right?” I tried to pull my hand back, but he held it firm. "I...I'm sorry," I stuttered, unsure what to say. He led me to the altar where a clerk was waiting with a stack of papers. What's happening? I thought to myself. Who is this man? And why is he calling me Diane? I don't remember agreeing to any of this. Did I somehow get into the wrong place? I looked around, trying to make sure I was not dreaming . I must be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The man handed me a pen, expecting me to sign the papers. But I hesitated, unsure what to do. Something didn't feel right. "Just sign here," the man said, his eyes locked on mine. I took the pen, but my hand hovered over the paper. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was making a huge mistake. "Sign it, Diane," the man urged, his voice firm. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not yet, at least. I needed to figure out what was going on first. “Diane, sign the papers.” His voice urged. I looked at the pen in my hand, my mind racing. My eyes went wide in shock as I read and digested the contents of the paper. “I, Diane Weldon, accept Ethan Thompson as my lawfully wedded husband. To love and to cherish, in good health and in sickness, in riches and in wealth, till death take us apart?” “I must have walked into a wedding...and this man who should be Ethan Thompson must think that I am his bride to be. I need to fix this.” But just as I opened my mouth to speak, another thought struck me. If I signed this, I would be married to this stranger, Ethan Thompson . But if I did, I wouldn't have to marry Harrison. The thought of being free from marrying that old man twice my age, sent a wave of relief through me. I took a deep breath and signed the documents, trying to forge a signature. "Welcome to the family, Mrs. Thompson," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. I forced a smile, trying to play along. "Thank you," I said, trying to sound confident. The clerk nodded, gathering the papers. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. You are now husband and wife." Ethan took my hand, his grip firm.” Mrs Thompson.” I stared at him , my heart pounding in my chest. What had I just done? I was now married to a stranger, and I had no idea what lay ahead. But one thing was certain - I was free from Harrison. "I'll have my driver take you to your place to gather your things," Ethan said, handing me a small card with an address on it. "You'll be staying with me, of course. As per our agreement." I felt a wave of panic wash over me. Living with a stranger? I couldn't think of anything more terrifying. But I couldn't show my fear, not now. I had to keep up the charade. Okay, think, Ava , think. You can't go home. Your parents will be waiting, and they'll know something's up. But how do you explain this to Ethan? You can't just tell him you're not his hired bride... He looks like a very rich man, he will wipe you from the surface of the earth and no one will bat an eyelid. "I...I need to make a phone call," I stammered, trying to stall for time, so I could think of a believable lie to tell my parents when I get home. Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Can't it wait? We should get going." I shook my head, trying to come up with an excuse. "No, it's just...it’s very urgent. Give me a few minutes please.” "Of course. Make your call." I took a deep breath and pretended to dial a number, all the while thinking frantically about what to do next. How was I going to get out of this? And what did Ethan mean by "their agreement"? What had I gotten myself into? I walked back into church , trying to compose myself. Ethan flashed me a smile as I stood in front of him . "The driver will wait for you outside. Once you've packed your bags, he'll bring you to your new home." "Thank you," I said, forcing a smile. Ethan nodded. "I'll see you soon, then." I nodded and turned to leave, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. The driver was waiting for me outside. I got into the car and gave him the address of my parents' house. When we arrived, I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I walked up to the front door. I opened the door and walked in, secretly hoping my parents weren’t at home. My mother, father, and sister were waiting for me in the sitting room, their faces contorted with rage. "Ava, where have you been?" my mother demanded, standing up. "We've been worried sick about you.” I tried to come up with an excuse, but before I could say anything, my mother's harsh words reached my ears. "You ungrateful girl," she spat, walking up to me. "You humiliate us like this?" And with that, she slapped me, hard. I felt a sting on my cheek as I stumbled backward, tears welling up in my eyes.