Marriage

804 Words
--- Audrey’s POV I stepped into his office, heart pounding in my chest like a warning bell. Every part of me screamed that this was insane. That I should turn around, pretend this never happened. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even look at him. My eyes locked onto the floor like it held the meaning of life itself. And then—before my courage evaporated completely—I whispered the words. “Marry me.” It was so soft, I wasn’t even sure if I’d said it out loud or just thought it hard enough to believe it was real. Silence. I forced myself to look up. There he was—Jackson Rodriguez—perfection in a tailored suit. Looking like a sin I wanted to commit. My mouth moved, but the words refused to cooperate. I hated that I was blushing. Hated that I was terrified. But more than anything, I hated the silence stretching between us. I tried again. Failed. My fists clenched. My pride screamed at me to leave, to preserve whatever dignity I had left—but before I could move, he did. He stood slowly, then walked toward me. Each step deliberate. Intense. I backed away instinctively, heart hammering, until my spine met the wall. Trapped. We were inches apart now. His gaze locked onto mine like he was reading my mind, my fears, my secrets. His eyes burned into me—not with anger or mockery—but something deeper. Hotter. And before I could change my mind, I spoke again, louder this time. Clearer. “I want to marry you.” He didn’t say anything. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t ask why. His stare was so consuming, I forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t rejection I saw in his eyes—it was something else. Something dangerous. Something… promising. --- Jackson’s POV I was deep in work when the knock came. I expected Blake, or Bruno, or one of the interns with another file needing my signature. I didn’t expect her. Audrey Gomez. Every time I saw her, something stirred in me—something unfamiliar. She wasn’t the kind of woman I usually went for, but there was something magnetic about her. Something real. I watched her fidget, stare at the floor, mumble something. Then she said it again, clearer this time. “I want to marry you.” She was serious. I could’ve asked a hundred questions. Could’ve laughed, or turned her away. But I didn’t. Because the truth was—I wanted to say yes. Even if it didn’t make sense. Even if she had an agenda. I smiled. “When are we getting married?” Her whole face lit up like sunrise. “Let’s do it now,” she said, grabbing my hand with this wild fire in her eyes. And just like that—we were off. --- Hours Later A courthouse, a few signed documents, and a stunned clerk later—Audrey was now my wife. My wife. Bruno looked like he’d just watched someone get kidn*pped. But, loyal as ever, he said nothing—just drove. “We need rings,” I muttered. “I want the world to know you’re mine.” He nodded and drove us to R & M’s Jewelry—Artie’s place. Artie had been my friend since childhood. Loud. Flirty. Unbearably dramatic. The moment he saw me with Audrey, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Then, in true Artie fashion, he ignored me completely and pulled her into a hug like she was an old flame. “Wow, you're gorgeous. Are you two dating?” No pause. “You’re too pretty for him.” Audrey laughed awkwardly as he peppered her with questions, compliments, and God knows what else. She looked flustered but polite, until I finally cut in. “Artie. Wedding rings.” He blinked. “Oh. Right.” And just like that, the chaos paused. He returned with a tray of rings fit for royalty. I watched Audrey’s eyes sparkle as she carefully picked the one she liked. I didn’t even ask for the price. I just paid. She was mine now. --- Back in the Car I still couldn’t believe it. Audrey. My wife. I never thought I’d get married—especially not like this. She turned to me, suddenly all business. “I’d like to discuss the terms of our marriage.” There it was—the switch. From bashful to bold in half a heartbeat. Intriguing. I looked at her, fascinated. “Terms?” “Yes. Expectations. Boundaries. Logistics.” But as she spoke, I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d be like when angry. Or when flustered. Or—God help me—when in bed. I nodded slowly, leaning back, smirking just a little. “I’m all ears, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
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