The Silent Groom
606 Words
“You may now kiss the bride”
The words echoed through the grand hall, but everything else around me felt... muted.
No sound. No breath.
Just the pounding of my heart and the icy chill crawling up my spine.
This wasn’t supposed to be my life.
But here I was wearing my sister’s wedding dress, standing beside the man who was meant to marry her not me.
Zaydeen .
My sister’s billionaire fiancé.
Now, my husband.
He didn’t look at me when the officiant made the announcement. He didn’t smile. He didn’t reach for my hand until the cameras flashed and people began to applaud.
Then, his hand slipped around my waist. Firm. Possessive. Cold.
He leaned in just enough for the cameras, his lips dangerously close to my ear.
“Smile for the cameras, Amira. Your sister caused this.”
I smiled or tried to.
My lips quivered, but I curved them upward anyway. For the crowd. For the press. For my mother, who sat in the front row dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief more out of shame than joy.
He didn’t kiss me.
Not even a peck.
Instead, he brushed the side of my face with the back of his hand like a man touching something fragile or unwanted.
And then it was over.
The photos. The applause. The ceremony.
My life as Amira Abdul had ended.
The bridal suite was massive bigger than the two-bedroom flat I grew up in. Velvet drapes. Gold chandeliers. A full-length mirror framed in pearls. I sat at the vanity, staring at my reflection.
The veil was still on.
My makeup flawless.
My eyes hollow.
I had never felt more dressed up and more trapped.
Now I am Mrs. Amira Sherif.
What now?
What did a bride do after marrying a man she barely knew?
My heart was still racing when the door creaked open behind me. I turned quickly, startled.
Khalid stood there, still in his ceremonial kaftan, watching me. His face unreadable.
“I’ve sent everyone home,” he said.
His voice was low, firm, emotionless.
“Including your parents.”
My throat tightened. “Why?”
“Because this is our home now.” He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “And we have a lot to discuss.”
I stood up quickly. “I just want to explain”
“I’m not interested in apologies,” he cut in.
I froze. His tone wasn’t angry, just...final. Cold.
“I don’t care why your sister ran,” he said. “Or why you agreed to this madness. All I care about is damage control.”
I blinked. “So this is... all fake?”
He gave a half-shrug, walking past me. “Let’s call it what it is a contractual arrangement.”
My mouth went dry. “How long?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Six months.”
Six months?
“You expect me to pretend for six months that we’re married?”
“No,” he said coolly. “I expect you to be married. Pretending isn’t necessary. You wear the ring. You attend events. You smile in public. You sleep... wherever you like. Just don’t embarrass me.”
My face burned.
This was a deal to him. A business deal. Nothing more.
“And what do I get in return?” I asked, crossing my arms.
He paused, then looked me dead in the eyes.
“Your family’s reputation intact. Financial security. And freedom… when this ends.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My mind was spiraling.
That was when my phone buzzed on the table.
- Writer
