Then Unintended Bride

Chapter4

Reina’s POV

I walked out of the Casagrande building feeling like someone had unplugged my brain.

My face was hot, my palms were sweaty, and my heartbeat hadn’t slowed since the moment I stepped into that office.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

I had spilled water on the CEO.

I raised my voice at him.

I had looked like a complete mess in front of the one man who could actually help my life get better.

And now I had to come back tomorrow for a second interview like nothing happened.

Great.

My legs felt weak as I reached the sidewalk. I tried to breathe normally, but everything inside me was tight. I was embarrassed, frustrated, and so overwhelmed I didn’t even know where to put my feelings.

For a second, I honestly thought I might cry right there in front of the revolving doors.

I hugged my arms around myself and quietly said, “Get it together. Please.”

But I didn’t feel together at all. I felt like someone who couldn’t catch a break no matter how hard she tried.

Still, I forced myself to walk.

Halfway down the block, I pulled out my phone and opened the ride-hailing app. The price was high, but right then I didn’t care. I just wanted to disappear into a car and go home.

I tapped “Book Ride.”

The app immediately asked for payment.

And that was when it hit me. I still didn’t have my wallet. And my card? Still declining. Still useless.

I quietly groaned and shut the app.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

So I started walking. Because that was my only option.

Each step made my frustration worse. My shoes were uncomfortable, and my thoughts wouldn’t stop beating me up.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I muttered under my breath. “I’m trying. I really am.”

The street felt longer than usual. My body was tired, my head was heavy, and every little thing from today kept replaying in my mind.

Then I passed a small bar. Nothing fancy… It had dim lights, a few people inside and the music was low enough not to be annoying.

Normally, I would never have walked into a place like that alone.

But today wasn’t normal.

And right then, I needed something to quiet the noise in my head.

“One drink,” I whispered. “Just one.”

So I pushed the door open and walked inside.

The bar was quieter than I expected. A few people were scattered around, none of them paying attention to me. The lights were warm, the music was soft, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe without someone staring at me like I didn’t belong.

I sat at the counter, sliding onto the stool like someone who had lost the last bit of energy holding her together.

When the bartender walked over, I didn’t even pretend to think about it.

“Something cheap,” I said. “And strong.”

He nodded and poured.

I took the drink and swallowed it too fast, the burn hitting me immediately. I didn’t care. It felt good to have something drown out the chaos in my head.

I set the empty glass down and said, “Another.”

He didn’t question me. He just poured.

By the time I finished the second one, my shoulders had relaxed a little. The embarrassment from earlier still stung, but it wasn’t choking me anymore.

“One more,” I said.

Soon enough, I stopped counting.

I didn’t know when I started talking. It just happened.

Maybe it was because the bartender had the kind of face that looked like he’d seen worse stories than mine.

But suddenly I was venting like I hadn’t vented in months.

“I swear the rug attacked me today,” I told him, tapping the counter for emphasis. “Like it just wanted to trip me.”

He nodded slowly, the way people do when they’re pretending to follow along.

“And then this man, this stupidly rich, stupidly fancy man kept looking at me like I was… I don’t know. A walking disaster.”

I laughed, even though it wasn’t funny.

“And he wasn’t wrong,” I added. “Because apparently, chaos is my brand now.”

The bartender slid another drink my way. I took it gratefully.

“I mean, who spills water on the CEO?” I muttered.

He raised an eyebrow. “You spilled water on the CEO?”

“Very handsomely,” I said. “If that counts for anything.”

He didn’t answer. Probably for the best.

I kept talking about my jobs, my debts, my missing wallet, the interview from hell, my entire life as one long unfortunate event. He just listened, and somehow that made everything feel a little less heavy.

By the time I finished my fourth drink, the knot in my chest had loosened. My head was a little fuzzy, my thoughts were slower, and the world didn’t feel like it was pressing down on me as hard as before.

For the first time all day, I didn’t feel like I was drowning.

I just felt… tired.

And drunk.

Very, very drunk.

I was swirling what was left of my drink when someone slid onto the stool beside me.

I didn’t look right away. I was too busy trying to remember if I’d eaten anything today.

But then he spoke.

“You’ve had a long day.”

His voice was smooth in a way that didn’t match the bar , calm, steady, a little amused.

I turned my head and squinted at him, because the alcohol had definitely started to affect my focus.

He was… put together. Tall with a clean haircut.

A tailored jacket that didn’t belong in this part of town.

And he had one of those faces that made you pause for a second.

I stared at him a little too long before I finally said, “You have… a very handsome face.”

He laughed, and it was warm enough that it didn’t feel like he was laughing at me.

Well, maybe a little. But I didn’t mind.

He signaled to the bartender and said, “Her next drink is on me.”

I should have said no. I didn’t.

The drink arrived. I took it.

He asked how my night was going.

I answered honestly, way too honest.

He listened like he had time. Like he didn’t mind. And after the day I’d had, that attention felt dangerously comforting.

By the fourth drink the stranger bought me, I wasn’t even sober anymore. I was drunk.

At one point, I almost slid off the stool, and he caught my arm before I face-planted.

“Easy,” he said.

I nodded, but the room tilted anyway.

He watched me carefully, not like a creep, but like someone making sure I didn’t accidentally injure myself.

“You should probably slow down,” he said.

“That sounds like a future me problem,” I replied.

He smiled and, for some reason, that made my chest feel lighter. His face was still blurry.

When I leaned against his shoulder for a moment, he didn’t push me away. He just stayed still, letting me balance myself.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight,” he murmured.

My heart reacted before my brain did.

We eventually stepped outside the bar together. The cold air hit me like a slap, and I clung to him without thinking.

“Where do you live?” he asked softly.

I laughed but it came out as a gurgle.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably somewhere. But I lost my wallet, and my card hates me, and I might fall over if I try to walk by myself.”

He looked at me for a moment, assessing how gone I was.

Then he said, “Come with me. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

I nodded, because thinking felt like too much work.

We started walking, his hand wrapped around mine, so I wouldn’t drift off the sidewalk like an i***t.

Every step felt warmer.

But I didn’t stop.

We reached a hotel a few blocks away. The place looked oddly familiar but who cares?

He guided me inside, checking us in without a single pause.

My head was still spinning, and I leaned into him for balance. He didn’t complain.

We walked down the hallway together, my hand still in his, my heart beating faster than it should have.

Then he opened the door.

I stepped inside first.

He followed after me.

The door clicked shut behind us.