Marrying Dr. Carter

“Will you marry me?” he asked as he got down on one knee. He was all smiles as he opened the small red velvet box, revealing a shiny diamond ring. I still couldn’t believe my eyes. My heart was racing so fast. It made my heart flutter even more as the crowd shouted with glee, showing their support for him. “Please say yes, Dior,” he said pleadingly. “I know that our meeting wasn’t a fairy tale. We started as enemies to friends and now here I am hoping that I can end up as your lover for life. Our love was so slow-burn that it took me years to admit that I fell deeply in love with you, though here I am now, telling the world how much I love you.” He smiled shyly before continuing… “The thing is… I just love you so much that I’d rather die than have you marry another man.” I felt my tears welling up in my eyes as he pulled out the ring and looked into my eyes pleadingly. I bobbed my head. “Yes! Of course I will marry you, babe!” I declared enthusiastically. His smile got even wider, revealing his dimples that made him even more attractive in my eyes. He broke into the biggest smile I had ever seen as he slid the ring onto my fingers with his hand trembling. “Calm down, hon. Your hand is shaking so much.” I chuckled heartily as I looked at him. He was damn attractive. “Shush. I am so nervous because I thought you’d say no. You’re just too hard to read and unpredictable most of the time,” he said. He pouted his lips that I couldn’t help but pinch his cheek. “You think I would not marry a man like yourself? You are everything I could ever ask for, David.” “I have nothing to offer.” I gazed into his warm, loving eyes as I cupped his face tenderly in my hands. “You are more than enough,” I whispered, my thumb tracing the contours of his face. His smile reached his eyes. “Thank you for saying yes. Thank you so much, love.” He pulled me in his arms and hugged me tightly like he would die if he let go, like I was the source of his life. I shook my head in disappointment as I reminisced about the past. It could have been a better marriage life, an ideal one if it wasn’t for the mistakes that have been made. Mistakes that we can’t correct. “I won’t be coming home tonight,” my husband declared. His voice was so cold as ice that I couldn't help but get hurt again. “Again?” I asked. “You’re always not home, David!” I exclaimed. “I am not like someone who likes to leech on someone’s house,” he declared, which made my heart hurt even more. “This is our house!” David chuckled before turning to face me, his face contorted with rage. “Says who exactly, Dior? Your damned father sold this house to a mortgage, and you have the audacity to tell me that this is ours when I am the only one who has to work my ass off just to pay those bills?” He gritted his teeth. “Aren’t you ashamed of what you’ve become? You are nothing without me, Dior! Just be thankful that I did not throw you out when your company went bankrupt, and you have to mooch on me all this time.” I am ready to face his anger towards me because of what my father did when our company went through shits. I am ready to face the backlash of those mistakes and be with him through thick and thin, but it still hurts every time he throws those words at me like daggers. Three years. I have been atoning for that one mistake for three f*****g years of our marriage. Mistakes that I didn't even do but have to suffer from just because I am someone’s daughter. I wiped my tears and just continued sweeping the floor. He always tells me that I have to earn my keep in this house by doing what the helpers do, which I do. I have given up my dreams, my job, my career for him, but that’s just not enough. I have nothing to offer now because when I married him, that was when my life started to go downhill and f****d up. We lost all of our properties and shares in our company with just a blink of an eye. Someone must have stabbed us on our backs. “You’re drunk again,” I whispered gently as I guided him to his room one afternoon. When our company went bankrupt, David decided to separate our rooms. I kind of understood his feelings at that time. That was why I agreed with him, but three years had already passed and we’re still in this setup. “Stop acting like my wife, Dior,” David firmly said. I pressed my lips and sighed. I am your wife, you f*****g i***t.