His stand-in bride

CHAPTER 4

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest announced.

Nate lifted the veil with careful hands and cupped my face, his thumb grazing my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

As he leaned in, his breath brushed my lips. Everything about the moment felt so familiar, like a memory I couldn't quite place.

The way his hands held me, the warmth of his skin, even the faint scent of cedar and mint on his breath.

But it wasn't just the familiarity that startled me.

It was the spark, an electric current that surged through me, as if my body recognized something my mind didn't.

As Nate's arms wrapped around me, I felt a deep sense of comfort, like finding refuge in a storm.

My heart stammered in my chest, and I blinked, searching his eyes.

Where had I felt this before?

A memory stirred at the edges of my mind, hazy and persistent, like a shadow cast on a foggy morning.

I couldn't place it, but the sensation gnawed at me, twisting my stomach into knots.

Was this déjà vu? Or was my mind trying to tell me more?

Our lips met, sealing the promise of forever, but the familiarity lingered.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd known Nate before, that our connection went deeper than a hasty marriage.

But how? And why?

As we walked down the aisle, hand in hand, the faces of family and friends went into a sea of smiles and cheers.

The applause from the surrounding crowd faded into the background, like the static of a distant radio.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone standing at the back of the church.

A figure I hadn't expected to see.

Cloaked in shadow, their features obscured, but the way they stood still watching, made my heart lurch in recognition.

It couldn't be.

I blinked, my heart racing trying to shake the image from my mind.

When I looked again, the figure was gone. Yet, the unease remained, creeping into my chest like a cold draft.

Once we were in the car, I pressed my forehead against the cool window trying to soothe the burning fever that had plagued me all day.

The window’s chill seeped into my skin, an inadequate defense against the wildfire in my body.

The car came to a halt outside a massive mansion, Nate's mansion to be exact.

The gates opened to let the car in, and I could feel the stare of the guard following my face as the car slowly made its way inside.

Nate was out of the car the moment we stopped, slamming the door behind him.

I watched him go, feeling a pang of something, resentment, maybe, or exhaustion.

A migraine made its way to my head that, coupled with my burning fever, didn't really help my condition.

My body was too weak to follow. The fever had sapped all my energy, leaving me barely able to move.

The driver's eyes crinkled with worry as he hurried to open my door.

“Are you alright, miss?” he asked, his voice gentle with worry.

I shook my head, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my temples, my vision blurred, and the car seemed to tilt.

I pressed my hand against my burning forehead, my eyes beginning to water.

“I'll get help,” the driver said quickly, his voice fading as everything went black.

The next thing I heard was Nate's voice, flat, almost as though he was asking out of duty.

“Is she going to be alright?”

Even in my haze, I scoffed inwardly.

He didn't care, his tone was too casual, too rehearsed, unconcerned.

He had left me in the car without a second glance, and now he was pretending to care for someone else's benefit.

A new voice, a doctor's, I assumed, responded.

“She will be fine. I've written down the necessary prescriptions, and a nurse will arrive shortly to monitor her.

Her fever should break by morning. There's no need to worry, Mr. Reynolds.”

I tuned them out, my mind drifting away into restless sleep.

When I woke, it was with a jolt.

My breathing was heavy, my eyes swollen. Had I cried myself to sleep again?

Judging by the tightness in my chest, I probably had.

Nate and I hadn't spoken since the doctor’s visit, the distance between us growing with each passing day.

In a house this large, it was easy to avoid each other.

He stayed on the first floor, while I was confined to the top floor. It was convenient for him, he could come and go as he pleased, while I remained cloaked in solitude.

I had taken a leave from work for a few months, so there was nothing but time to fill the empty halls.

Shivering in the cold, I wrapped my robe tightly around myself, the silk nightgown offering little comfort.

Solitude should have been a reprieve, but it felt suffocating, a prison I couldn't escape.

I made my way to the kitchen, searching for something to drink.

The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of last night's dinner.

As I poured myself a glass of water, I noticed a piece of paper on the counter. Nate scribbled the note in hasty handwriting.

"I've gone out. Don't wait up. -N"

My chest tightened as I read the note, the words echoing in my mind like a dismissal.

He hadn't even bothered to check on me, to see how I was feeling. I crumpled the note in my fist.

But as I looked around the kitchen, at the sterile perfection of it all, I realized something.

I didn't know Nate, not really. And he didn't know me. We were strangers, bound together by a hasty marriage.

I steeled myself for the challenges ahead, knowing that rebuilding our relationship wouldn't be easy.

But I was determined to uncover the truth behind our troubled past.

I would find a way to connect with Nate, to reach beyond the facade and find the person beneath.

I walked up to the balcony, taking in the morning air.

As I stood there, wrapped in my robe, I felt a sense of emptiness wash over me.

The mansion’s grandeur and opulent decor seemed hollow without someone to share it with.

I thought of Nate, of his distant gaze, his detached tone. Was this really what I wanted? A loveless marriage.

The sound of tires screeching made me jolt, and I looked down to see Nate's Ferrari racing inside the gates.

Had he been out all night? I gazed at the black vehicle, waiting for its owner to emerge.

To my surprise the first person to come out of the car was wearing heels.

The person who came out was blonde and wearing clothes I would shy away from.

Nate came out and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

There was a slight clumsiness to his walk, a tell-tale sign of him being drunk.

I gulped in disgust as the two continued to have an intense make-out session in the foyer.

I waited for the pain to come, for the sharp stab of betrayal, but instead, all I felt was a hollow of emptiness. It wasn't indifference, not really, it was worse.

It was the realization that I had already lost, long before this moment.

I tore my eyes away from the two and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

As I stood under the scalding water, memories of that fateful night in Doha began to resurface, like ripples on a pond.

I had a seminar in Fairmont hotel Doha, Qatar.

In the conference room. I stood at the podium, adjusting my mic.

“Welcome, everyone, to International Doctor's Day”.

“Today, we'll discuss innovative medical strategies”, I began.

A handsome stranger caught my eye, his blue gaze making me stumble.

“Sorry”, I muttered, regaining composure.

After the program, I headed to the hotel bar for a cocktail.

“Hey, you're the speaker, right?”

A penetrating baritone voice asked, startling me.

I turned to face him, my heart skipping a beat.

“Yes”, I replied, smiling.

He slid onto the stool beside me, staring intently at me.

“ Your presentation was impressive”, he said, leaning in.

The dim lights blurred my vision. I couldn't see him clearly, but I could pick up his interest in me.

His lips brushed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

“I didn't expect this”, I whispered.

“Life's full of surprises”, replied his voice low.

The night was a whirlwind of passion and connection.

I remember feeling the oddest shiver of premonition when I first felt his touch in the club, like my body knew something big would happen.

But the sweet-talking leaving his mouth was almost oscar-worthy, and I'm weak when it comes to trouble.

The Gorgeous bastard.

We didn't exchange numbers.

In fact, he didn't even say goodbye when he snuck out of my hotel room in the early hours.

I was okay with that… I expected it.

The familiar mesmerizing blue eyes piercing right through me.

They're not the type you forget.

How could I forget?

There's no mistaking, it's him.

…Nate?

My one-night stand.

Sex god.

My breath stays heavy in my lungs, my heart thrashing away so hard I gasp a little through a quick breath.

My hands clenched into fists, my heart racing with every beat.

I stormed out of the bathroom, my anger propelling forward.

I found Nate in the living room.

“How could you do this to me?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

Dark circles ringed Nate's eyes, and his eyelids drooped, betraying a sleepless night. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a mix of frustration and guilt.

He sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Look, Annie, I messed up”.

“I was drunk and stupid. It didn't mean anything.”

“This isn't just about you,” I said, trying to steady my voice.

Nate's shoulders tensed, his eyes flashing with guilt.

“ I was weak, Annie. I let my desires cloud my judgment. But that's no excuse”.

“Is sorry really enough, Nate?”

“Does it erase the pain you have caused?”

I demanded, my voice trembling, frustration clear in my tone.

“This isn't about more than just one night. It's about the trust we're supposed to have.”

He glanced away, his expression unreadable.

“Trust?”

“You and your family deceived me. You're not the

Bride I asked for?”

How dare your father betray me?”

“Rich of you to talk about trust”.

“And when will you drop the act? Will you keep pretending that we don't know each other or that we haven't met before?”

“Fairmont hotel?”....