Give Me Trouble Witch My Perverted Husband

Merelin I couldn’t believe I’d come to this. It was almost pathetic, really. Sitting on my bed, my laptop resting on my lap, the cursor blinked mercilessly on the screen. The website was open—one of those my friend Brianna had recommended to me. “It solves all your problems,” she’d said with a wry smile. I should have been suspicious. “Just one week, Merelin. What could possibly go wrong?” I muttered, still hesitant. My mobile vibrated beside me. It was Brianna, as always with her unconventional advice. “Have you checked the website yet?” Her voice echoed through the speakerphone. “I’m looking at it.” “But Bri, this seems… way too weird.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “Am I really going to hire someone to pretend to be my husband?” “Yes, you are. Or do you want your mum and your aunt to keep calling you a spinster at Julie’s wedding? Trust me, this is the best thing you can do right now.” She sounded completely sure of herself, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. “I don’t know, there are some blokes here who look like toothpaste models. I’m not sure that’s what I want…” I scrolled through the screen, passing profiles that looked as if they’d been taken straight from an advert. That was when I saw ‘Dante Vintch’s’ profile. Unlike the others, he wasn’t sporting a forced smile or striking exaggerated poses. His expression was serious, almost sombre, as if he were there against his will. Something in his eyes made me stop. ‘I think I’ve found one.’ “My voice was a whisper, almost as if I feared he might hear me.” “Who? Show me!” Brianna asked, excitedly. I sent her a screenshot. “Wow. He looks like he’s not there for a laugh.” She laughed. “Send him a message quickly, before he gives up on his career.” I hesitated for another second, then typed a simple message: “Hi, my name is Merelin. I need some help with a family event. I know it’s a bit odd, but it’s urgent. I can pay well. Can we arrange a meeting to discuss the details?” I sent it before I could change my mind. Minutes later, the reply arrived: “Sorry, I’m not taking on any more work. Good luck." Frustration hit me like a bucket of cold water. But something made me carry on. Perhaps the sad look in his photo, or the fact that I really had no other option. I started typing again, this time with greater urgency. "Please, Dante. I know you must be fed up with this, but I really need your help. I just can’t go back to my family empty-handed. I promise I’ll pay you back, even if I have to use all my savings. This will be the last time, I swear. Please, just give me a chance. I closed my eyes as I sent it. I took a deep breath and waited, not knowing if he’d reply again. After a few minutes, a new notification popped up. “OK. This will be my last scam. Let’s meet up to discuss the terms. Where do you suggest?” My heart raced. He’d agreed. I couldn’t believe it. Quickly, I replied: “There’s a pub in the city centre, O’Malley’s. How about tomorrow night?” The reply was immediate: “Tomorrow, 8 pm. Don’t be late.” I felt a strange sense of relief. He seemed cold, but he was my only option. Now, I just needed to get ready for the meeting. Dante Ever since my mother died, nothing seemed to make sense. I used to think I was helping these people, offering a temporary solution to their problems. But now, it all seemed hollow. Pretending to be the perfect boyfriend, the ideal husband... whilst I was drowning in my own grief, was unbearable. I’d already decided I wouldn’t do it anymore. I’d cleared my diary of any future work. But then that message popped up. A woman called Merelin, asking for help, begging without humiliating herself. Something in the way she wrote touched me. She was desperate, but in a sincere way. I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to say ‘no’ again. But for some reason, I typed my reply. “OK. This will be my last charade. Let’s meet up to discuss the terms. Where do you suggest?” I didn’t even know why I was agreeing. Perhaps because, as she’d promised, this would be my last time. And then, I could finally put all this behind me. She suggested a pub in the city centre. An ordinary, inconspicuous place. That would be easy. I replied straight away. “Tomorrow, 8 pm. Don’t be late.” I closed my phone and took a deep breath. It would be my final performance. After that, I could disappear. Merelin I was a nervous wreck the next day. My thoughts were racing as I got dressed for the meeting. I didn’t want to look desperate, but I couldn’t act too casual either. In the end, I chose a simple outfit: jeans and a smart top, nothing too flashy. I wasn’t going on a romantic date, after all. This was business. When I arrived at O’Malley’s, he was already there, sitting in a more secluded corner, with a beer in front of him. Dante Vintch was even more imposing in person. Tall, with a serious look that made me swallow hard. He didn’t smile when he saw me, but watched me closely as I approached. “Merelin?” His voice was deep, a little deeper than I’d imagined. “Yes. Um… Dante, right?” I smiled nervously, sitting down opposite him. He nodded, without much emotion. “So, explain it to me. Why are you doing this?” He got straight to the point, as if he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. “Well… it’s my sister’s wedding, and I’m fed up with my family’s comments. I can’t turn up on my own again.” I swallowed hard, feeling my face flush. “I know it sounds crazy, but I just need you to be my husband for a week. Just one week.” He looked at me in silence for a few seconds, his dark eyes weighing up every word I’d said. Then he sighed. “A week, then. And the payment?” “I…” I hesitated, clasping my hands in my lap. “I’ll use my savings to pay you. I’m not rich, but I can offer a fair price. I promise.” Dante was silent for a moment, as if weighing up his options. Then, at last, he spoke. “All right. This will be my last charade, so don’t think you’ll be asking me for anything else afterwards.” He leaned forward, staring directly at me. “Deal?” I nodded, relieved. “Deal.”