UNSPOKEN TIES
1194 Words
The morning sun filtered through the large windows, casting soft golden rays across the silk sheets. Elena stirred, her body aching in places she didn’t expect, her mind still foggy from the night before. For a moment, she lay there, staring at the chandelier, her thoughts silent.
Then she turned—and saw him.
Caden.
He was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless, his head bent slightly as he scrolled through something on his phone. The lines of his back tensed as if he sensed her gaze. Slowly, he turned to face her, expression unreadable.
"You’re awake."
His voice was low and calm, like smooth jazz over tension. Elena pushed herself up, dragging the blanket with her, suddenly very aware of her vulnerability. She clutched the sheet to her chest.
"What happened last night?" she asked.
He arched a brow. "You really don’t remember?"
"Bits and pieces," she murmured. “But not enough.”
“You cried. A lot. You drank. A lot more.” Caden stood up and walked toward the window. “Then you insisted we get married.”
Her breath caught. "I what?"
He didn’t turn around. “You begged. You said you wanted to feel chosen for once. You asked if I could pretend for a little while. I told you I don’t do pretending.” He turned, locking eyes with her. “So I made it real.”
Elena’s chest rose and fell as if the weight of the room had changed.
“I was heartbroken,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
He nodded. “I know.”
A deep silence followed. Outside, Lagos buzzed with life—the honk of cars, the distant shout of vendors, but inside the apartment, there was only stillness.
“Can we undo it?” she asked carefully.
He tilted his head. “The marriage?”
“Yes.”
Caden walked over, hands in his pockets. “If that’s what you want.”
Elena blinked. His calmness unnerved her. “You’re not even going to argue?”
He chuckled. “What would I argue for? We barely know each other.”
“That didn’t stop you from marrying me.”
That comment hit a nerve. His jaw tightened. “I did it because you needed saving.”
“And you’re some kind of hero?” she asked, her voice rising.
“No.” He leaned closer. “I’m the kind of man who doesn’t walk away when someone’s falling apart.”
Her throat tightened.
She hadn’t expected kindness. Not like this. Not from a man who looked like he stepped out of a billionaire romance novel, with eyes too piercing to trust and a jaw that clenched when he was thinking too hard.
"Okay," she said, wrapping the sheet tighter around her. "What happens now?"
Caden walked to the dresser and tossed a document onto the bed. Elena stared at it—a marriage certificate, signed, sealed, and officially binding.
"You have 30 days," he said.
“For what?”
“To decide.”
"Decide what?"
“If you want to stay... or walk away.”
Elena stared at him, searching his eyes for an answer she wasn’t sure how to form.
"You could've just annulled it," she whispered.
"I could have," he said. "But I don't want to."
That admission struck her harder than she expected.
“Why?” she asked, voice trembling.
Caden paused before answering. “Because you remind me of someone I failed to save. I guess I thought… maybe this time, I could do it differently.”
Her heart skipped.
There were stories behind his calm—wounds, regrets, and possibly love long lost.
Elena looked away, unsure of what to say.
“I have somewhere to be,” Caden said, slipping into a crisp button-up. “There’s food in the kitchen. Take your time.”
And just like that, he left.
---
Later That Day
The apartment was bigger than any she’d ever stepped foot in. Marble floors, glass walls, and expensive paintings she couldn’t even name. It screamed money—quietly, tastefully. But none of that mattered.
Elena stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to recognize herself.
Married.
To a man she barely knew.
And worse? A part of her wasn’t scared.
It was curious.
The way he touched her without asking too many questions. The way he didn’t pry but also didn’t walk away.
Was it crazy to feel…safe?
She thought of her ex, Nedu. His sharp words. His neglect. His betrayal.
Caden was nothing like that.
But trust wasn’t something she gave freely anymore.
---
Evening
When Caden returned, Elena had cleaned the kitchen, made jollof rice, and found a playlist of old 90s love songs playing softly on the speakers.
He stopped in the doorway and raised a brow. “Is this your way of saying thanks?”
“No,” she replied, not turning to look at him. “It’s my way of pretending everything’s normal.”
He smirked. “I like it.”
They ate in silence for the first few minutes, only the soft music filling the gap. Then Elena broke the quiet.
“What do you do?”
“I run a private security firm. Corporate clients, mostly.”
“So… you protect people?”
Caden shrugged. “I manage the ones who do. My days of bulletproof vests are behind me.”
“Is that why you’re so calm? Like nothing shakes you?”
He gave her a long look. “I’ve seen enough chaos to know when silence is a gift.”
Something in her heart fluttered. She hadn’t expected poetry. Or grace.
Just a rough man with money and arrogance.
But Caden was more.
And that terrified her.
---
Midnight
Elena couldn’t sleep. She padded barefoot through the hallway, unsure where she was going. Then she heard something—piano music.
She followed the sound and found him in a small studio, seated at a baby grand piano, shirt undone at the top, fingers gliding over keys.
“You play?” she asked from the doorway.
Caden didn’t look up. “Sometimes. Helps me think.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He finally turned, surprised she was still awake. “You can’t sleep?”
She shook her head.
He nodded toward the seat beside him. “Come sit.”
Elena hesitated, then obeyed. Their shoulders touched slightly.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asked suddenly.
“No,” she said quickly.
“Why not?”
“Because fate never did me any favors.”
He smiled faintly. “Maybe it did. You just didn’t know it yet.”
Elena turned toward him. “What about you?”
“I didn’t,” he said. “Until I met you.”
Her breath caught.
Something in his eyes flickered—longing, maybe. Or pain.
And in that moment, Elena wasn’t sure if she wanted the 30 days to end.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted this to be a mistake anymore.
---
Sometimes the biggest mistakes bring us to the places we were meant to be all along.
- Writer
