Almost Strangers

Chapter Five

Vows Without Love

Vera's POV

I woke up the next morning with the uncomfortable realization that I was marrying soon. I'd spent most of the night reminding myself this was only an arrangement an end date written clearly into the agreement, no promises beyond one year of pretending to be husband and wife. Knowing that did little to calm my nerves.

By eight the house was already full of people preparing for the ceremony. A makeup artist arrived with several bags, followed by a hairstylist and two women carrying garment covers, and I'd barely finished breakfast before someone knocked on my door to say it was time to get ready.

I spent the next few hours being dressed and styled while trying to convince myself this was just another event to get through. It didn't work. When I finally looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back the dress elegant without being overdone, my hair swept neatly from my face, everything perfect and yet impossible to reconcile with the fact that I was wearing a wedding dress for a marriage planned like a business transaction.

There was a knock.

"Vera?" Angela called from outside.

My face lit up. "Come in."

She stepped inside and stopped short. "Oh my goodness," she said, smiling. "You look beautiful."

I laughed nervously. "Don't remind me I'm actually getting married."

She crossed the room and adjusted a fold of my veil. "You knew this was happening."

"I know. But knowing something and standing in a wedding dress are two very different things."

Her expression softened. "Are you sure about this?"

I looked at myself in the mirror before answering. "No." Then, after a beat but I'm doing it anyway."

She sighed and took both my hands. "Then promise me one thing." "What?"

"Don't let him make you forget who you are."

"I won't," I said, though what I didn't tell her was that I was far more afraid of remembering who Aries had once been than of the man he'd become.

The ceremony was held in a private section of the Morgan estate, with only close family and a handful of important guests present. I caught quiet conversation drifting past as I walked toward the entrance, but none of it registered once I saw Aries standing at the front, dressed in black, his expression as calm and controlled as always.

For one dizzy second the man in front of me disappeared, and I saw instead a thirteen year old boy under an old tree, holding out a silver bracelet and promising I'd never forget him. Then I remembered the man who'd looked me dead in the eyes and claimed we'd never met, and my steps slowed without my meaning them to.

He noticed. His gaze stayed fixed on me as I walked closer, and something in his expression shifted the moment he spotted the bracelet on my wrist I hadn't realized it was showing beneath my sleeve. He studied it for a long moment before lifting his eyes back to mine, and I couldn't tell whether he was thinking of the same afternoon I was.

When I reached him, he offered his hand. I hesitated only a beat before placing mine in his, and his fingers closed around it with a familiarity that felt strange given everything standing between us.

The ceremony began. I listened, answered when I was supposed to, and tried not to think about how fast my life had turned into something unrecognizable. When it was Aries's turn to speak his vows, he looked straight at me.

"I will honor this marriage and protect the life we build together."

The words were careful, exactly as I'd expect from him. When it was my turn, I gave a similar promise, and neither of us mentioned love there was no need for it. Love had never been part of the agreement.

When the officiant pronounced us husband and wife, a strange stillness settled in me just before the applause started. "You may kiss your bride," he said, and for a moment neither of us moved.

Aries turned to me first. His hand found my jaw, tilting my face up to his with a gentleness that didn't match the coldness he'd shown me all week, and when his mouth met mine, it wasn't the brief, obligatory touch I'd braced for. It lingered slow, deliberate, his fingers pressing just slightly against my skin as if he needed a second longer than the moment allowed. I felt it everywhere, that same reckless pull I remembered from being thirteen and certain he'd never let me go, and for one terrifying breath I forgot this was a transaction at all.

Applause rose around us, distant and muffled, like it belonged to some other room. When he finally drew back, his eyes stayed on mine a beat too long, unreadable, before the mask settled back into place.

"It's done," he murmured, close enough that only I could hear.

"Yes," I said, and just like that we were married not because we loved each other, not because either of us believed it would last, but because he needed a wife and I needed the life his contract could buy me. At least, that was what I believed. But my lips were still warm from his, and no contract had prepared me for that.

After the ceremony came photographs, congratulations, and the slow trickle of guests heading home. I smiled whenever anyone approached, playing the newlywed wife while Aries did the same beside me, and nobody seemed to suspect our marriage had begun with a signature instead of a promise.

When the last guest finally left, I went back to my room and started taking off the jewelry I'd worn for the ceremony. A few minutes later, a knock came, and I already knew who it was before I opened the door.

"We should talk," Aries said.

I stepped aside to let him in. He stayed near the door, keeping the distance we'd agreed on. "About the contract?" I asked.

"About our arrangement. Tomorrow we go back to our normal routines. You keep working at the company, I handle the business side. When we're around my family or anyone connected to it, we act like a normal married couple."

"And when we're alone?" The question came out quieter than I meant it to, and I hated how much I wanted to know the answer.

"We follow the rules."He replied flatly.

"Good," I said, nodding.

He turned toward the door, then stopped, his attention dropping to my wrist. "The bracelet."

"What about it?"I replied with anticipation

His expression grew harder to read. "You still have it."

I touched it gently. "You gave it to me."

Neither of us said anything for a moment. Then he looked away. "I didn't think you'd keep it."

"I didn't think you'd remember giving it to me," I said, almost smiling.

His eyes came back to mine. "I remember more than you think."

Something in my chest pulled tight, and before I could ask what he meant, he was already walking out and closing the door behind him.

I stood there staring at it, turning his words over. For years I'd wondered whether Aries had forgotten me. Now I knew he hadn't the real question was why he'd spent all that time pretending he had. And looking down at the bracelet he'd given me when we were still children, I couldn't shake the feeling that our contract marriage might have just become the beginning of something neither of us was ready to face.