A DIFFERENT SIDE OF HIM.
747 Words
Clarice's POV - Chapter 4
My eyes widened at his words. "Excuse me, what's that supposed to mean?" I asked, locking eyes with his piercing blue gaze.
"It means exactly what it sounds like, Clarice," Bruce replied, his tone firm and commanding.
Confusion swept over me. Why did I have to stay with him now? Most importantly, would I still be able to visit my mum frequently, especially once she was discharged from the hospital? I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "I thought we only got married for the contract deal. Why do we need to live together now?" My voice trembled, betraying my fear of being separated from my mum.
"Listen, Clarice," Bruce began, leaning back in his chair, "this marriage is crucial for my business deal. But I never said it was the only reason." He stood up and walked towards me. Instinctively, I stepped back until my back pressed against the wall. His presence was overwhelming.
"My grandfather wants to meet my new wife," Bruce continued, closing the distance between us. "For that reason, he's requested that you stay with me."
My heart pounded as he caged me against the wall, his arms on either side of me. I could barely breathe, my thoughts racing. I'd never been this close to anyone in a long time, and the intensity of his presence was almost too much to bear.
"Clarice," he whispered, his voice softer now, "you can visit your mum whenever you want. But it's vital that my grandfather never finds out this marriage is fake. No one can know. Is that clear?"
I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, and left his office still trembling from the encounter.
That evening, I went shopping for a wedding ring. I was stunned at the price—one ring could cover my old living expenses for months. The realization that this beautiful ring held no emotional value to Bruce stung. He wasn’t even there to place it on my finger. Yet, I couldn’t shake the image of him from my mind, especially how close he had been earlier.
When I returned home, I was shocked to find a pile of money on my dining table. "What?" I whispered in disbelief, recalling Bruce's earlier directive to go shopping. "You truly are a strange and mysterious man, Bruce," I murmured, a small smile creeping onto my face.
The next day, I received a message from Bruce telling me I didn't need to come to work. Grabbing the pile of money, I went shopping in places I'd only dreamed of. The clothes were stunning, and I even splurged on shoes and makeup. The day flew by in a whirlwind of excitement.
When the evening of the party arrived, I got ready early, painting my eyebrows and applying lipstick. "Oh gosh," I muttered, "I forgot to ask where we’re meeting." Just as I reached for my phone, it rang.
"How long will it take you to get ready, Clarice?" Bruce's voice sounded annoyed.
"Well, it's not like I know where you are, my loving husband," I responded sarcastically, feeling unusually bold.
"I'm outside your house. Just come out," he replied, his tone less harsh than usual.
I hurried out, spotting his car parked in front of my house. As I approached, my heart raced with excitement. "Good morning," I greeted him, not expecting a response.
"Good morning, Clarice," Bruce said, surprising me. He glanced at me, his gaze lingering. "You really went all out today. You look beautiful."
A compliment? From Bruce? I couldn't believe it. Throughout the drive, we remained silent, but I couldn’t stop smiling. We arrived that evening and were welcomed with grandeur. As we stepped out of the car, I linked my arm with Bruce's, feeling like a superstar under the flashing lights.
The party was a success. Couples congratulated Bruce on his new wife, and I couldn’t help but notice the attention we garnered. I clung tighter to Bruce’s arm, feeling secure in his presence.
"Do you want to go somewhere less crowded?" Bruce asked, holding my hand.
"Yes, please," I replied, following him to a quiet garden. We strolled through the serene space, the tension between us easing. I felt a warmth I hadn’t anticipated, a longing I hadn’t known existed.
I turned to Bruce, our eyes locking in a shared moment of vulnerability. His usually cold demeanor softened, and as I leaned in, drawn by an undeniable pull, a voice interrupted.
"Bruce."
- Writer
