Give Me Trouble Witch My Perverted Husband

Chapter 2

Merelin

I was feeling nervous, sitting at a table in the corner of the pub. My hands were clutching the glass of water in front of me, and my mind kept repeating the same question: What am I doing here?

O’Malley’s was half-empty that night; the soft sound of background music and the murmur of conversations around me did nothing to calm my racing heart. My meeting with Dante was set for eight o’clock, and I’d arrived fifteen minutes early, as usual. Being punctual was one of the few things I could control amidst the chaos my life had become.

And then, he walked in.

Dante Vintch. It didn’t take much effort to recognise him. Tall, red-haired, with a presence that seemed to dominate the room effortlessly. He walked towards me with firm steps, his dark jacket draped over his broad shoulders. When his eyes—a deep green—met mine, I felt my stomach churn. His beauty was raw, and something in the way he looked at me, direct and unambiguous, made me realise this wouldn’t be easy.

He stopped in front of me and, in a hoarse, deep voice, said:

“Merelin?”

“Yes” I replied, my voice coming out lower than I’d intended.

He sat down in front of me with the same calmness he’d exuded whilst watching me. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that seemed to see beyond the surface. I knew my appearance had never gone unnoticed by others. My dark, wavy hair, the curvy figure I always tried to hide with more discreet clothes... but Dante looked at me in a way that wasn’t just desire. It was curiosity, as if he were trying to understand what was going on inside me.

“Sorry I’m late.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Traffic.”

“It’s fine,” I murmured, trying to sound calm, though my heart was racing. “I… I’ve already ordered some water. Would you like anything?”

“A beer will do.” He raised his hand to call the waiter and placed his order with a simplicity I envied. He was so at ease, whilst I felt like a mess.

The silence between us lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I didn’t know how to start. I didn’t know what to say. He, on the other hand, seemed to be studying me.

“So, Merelin…” His husky voice filled the air, interrupting my thoughts. “Tell me more about why you want to do this.”

I took a deep breath. It was time to explain.

“I…” I hesitated, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. Why was I so nervous? “My sister’s wedding is in a few days. My family… well, they won’t stop pressuring me about being single. And honestly, I just wanted a break from it, you know? A chance to, for once, not be the centre of attention for being single.”

Dante listened to me in silence, his eyes fixed on mine. He seemed attentive, without interrupting, but the intensity of his gaze was unsettling.

‘I see,’ he finally said, his voice sounding softer, but still carrying that deep tone. ‘So you want me to pretend to be your husband for a week. Is that all?’

I nodded, feeling my body tense.

“Yes, exactly that. Just one week. After that, you go back to your life, and I go back to mine. Simple.”

“Not quite that simple.” He took a sip of the beer the waiter had just brought, before leaning slightly across the table. “You know this sort of thing can complicate matters, don’t you?”

His green eyes pierced me, as if testing me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, aware that he was right. This could all turn into a mess, but there was no turning back.

“I know,” I admitted, my voice lower. “But I’m willing to pay the price.”

He was silent for a moment, as if weighing my words.

“And what do you expect from me?” His voice sounded lower, almost a whisper. “I’m not very good at… showing emotions. Don’t expect me to be the perfect husband.”

“I don’t need perfection, Dante.” I took a deep breath, trying to sound confident. “I just need you to be convincing enough to fool my family.”

He looked at me for a long moment before finally nodding.

“Done.”

Silence fell between us once more, but this time there was something different in the air. It was as though, in that moment, we had crossed an invisible line. I watched him, captivated by the calm he exuded, whilst he studied me with the same intensity. Our gazes remained locked, and for the first time, I felt I was facing something far greater than I had expected.

He finished his beer and stood up.

“Tomorrow, then,” he said, with the same firmness as before. “At the airport.”

I nodded, still a little dazed by what had just happened.

“Madrid… here we go,” I murmured, more to myself.

As he walked towards the exit, I couldn’t help but watch the way he moved, with a confidence that seemed natural. Dante was an enigma, and, try as I might, I knew that understanding who he really was would be a challenge.

However, when he turned and looked at me one last time before leaving, I felt that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the only charade I was willing to play.

Dante

I never imagined I’d still be doing this. As I approached the table where Merelin was sitting, I thought about how many times I’d pretended to be the “perfect partner" for someone. But this time, something felt different. She was visibly nervous, her fingers twirling her glass of water as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. And, for some reason, I felt a pang of responsibility for being there.

When our eyes met, I realised she was even more attractive in person. A brunette, with delicate features and a natural beauty that contrasted with the nervousness she exuded. There was something about her, something that seemed more… genuine. The sort of person who doesn’t usually ask for help, but who was being forced to do so by circumstances.

I sat down opposite her and, without wasting any time, ordered a beer. Not because I needed one, but because anything that would help break the tense atmosphere seemed like a good idea at that moment.

“So, why exactly are we here?” I asked, trying to make it clear that, although I was willing to do this, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.

She began to speak, explaining about her sister’s wedding and the discomfort of being the ‘old maid’ of the family. I listened, but not just to the words. It was the tone, the way she avoided eye contact, how she fiddled with her glass, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing. She didn’t want to be there any more than I did, and perhaps that was what made me keep paying attention.

When she finished speaking, I nodded slowly. It wasn’t an unusual request, considering what I’d done before. But still, I couldn’t quite feel at ease with the idea.

“You know I’m not the ideal husband, right?” I asked, in a more direct tone. “I’m not good at faking emotions I don’t feel.”

She laughed softly, but there was a veiled sadness there. I understood. Neither of us was particularly enthusiastic about it, but we were committed, in some way, to moving forward.

She explained to me that she didn’t need perfection, just someone to fill the role. Fair enough. But as I looked at her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more complicated than it seemed at first glance. There was a sincerity in Merelin that other people lacked. She wasn’t doing this out of vanity, but out of necessity.

When I finally agreed, I noticed a subtle change in her. There was still nervousness, but also a faint confidence that perhaps things might work out. And, strangely, I felt responsible for that now.

We finished our conversation, and as I left the pub, I looked back one last time. She was there, watching me, as if seeking some kind of silent assurance. I didn’t have that assurance to give, but I knew I wouldn’t go back on my word. Tomorrow we’d be in Madrid, and from then on, everything would get more complicated.

Later, at Max’s flat

“So, are you going to do that again?” Max, my best friend, stared at me from the other end of the sofa, holding a bottle of beer. He was the only person who knew about my old life as a stand-in. Doctor, husband, boyfriend… I’d played all those roles before, and he always said that one day I’d have to stop. And I agreed. Sort of.

“It’ll be the last time,” I replied, taking a sip of my beer, unable to hide the reluctance in my voice. “I promised myself it would be. But there’s something about her… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like just another one of those charades.”

“It doesn’t seem like it? Or you don’t want it to be?” Max raised an eyebrow, well aware of my way of trying to distance myself from things that, deep down, I knew affected me.

I sighed, setting the bottle down on the table.

“I’m not going back on my word. I’ve already committed. We’re leaving for Madrid tomorrow.”

Max was silent for a few seconds, as if trying to understand my decision. He knew just how much of a burden all this had become for me, especially after my mother’s death.

“Mate, I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. This sort of thing can get out of hand, and you know it.” His voice was serious, but there was genuine concern there.”

“I know. But this time it’s different. She doesn’t want this for status, for pride. She just… wants a break. And maybe I need one too.”

Max nodded, but his expression remained sceptical. He knew I was doing this more for myself than for her. Perhaps I wanted one last job, something to give me a purpose before I finally moved on with my own life.

That night, when we left the pub, Merelin and I exchanged a silent glance. There was something in her eyes I couldn’t quite decipher, but it was clear we weren’t just two strangers on the way to a deal. There was a connection.

The next day, we would be leaving for Madrid, and however reluctant I was, I knew that something important was about to happen. I just didn’t know what.