The husband she never wanted

4

The next morning felt wrong.It wasn't dramatically wrong. It wasn't the kind of wrong where thunderstorms rolled in and the universe seemed determined to match your mood. The sunlight spilling through her curtains was exactly the same sunlight that had been there yesterday. Traffic still hummed outside. Somewhere in the building, a door slammed. Somebody laughed in the hallway. Life continued as though nothing had changed.

It made everything worse because her life had changed.

Alessia stood in her kitchen staring at the coffee machine while it hissed and gurgled. Usually she liked mornings. Usually she enjoyed the quiet before emails started arriving and employees began calling her about problems they could have solved themselves. This morning, she felt like she'd spent the entire night fighting with her own thoughts and lost.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the contract.

Marriage Agreement.

Her name printed neatly on the page.

Her uncle's voice.

It's already decided.

The coffee machine beeped, finally announcing it had finished. Alessia grabbed her mug and took a sip without thinking. Instantly she regretted it. The coffee burned her tongue, forcing a sharp hiss from her as she pulled the cup away and set it back on the counter harder than necessary.

"Fantastic," she muttered. "Exactly how I wanted to start my day."

Her phone sat nearby.

The messages were still there.

I think I found something.

You need to see this immediately.

Can you meet me tomorrow?

Alessia stared at them for several seconds before locking her screen again. The messages had been sitting there since yesterday, quietly occupying a corner of her mind while everything else collapsed around her. Tomorrow suddenly felt very far away.

At least somebody in her life seemed interested in giving her answers instead of orders.

As if the universe had heard the thought and taken it personally, her phone suddenly rang.

Alessia glanced at the screen.

Damien Alvan.

A groan escaped before she could stop it.

"God forbid I know peace."

The phone continued ringing. Ignoring it was tempting. Very tempting. Unfortunately, Damien struck her as the kind of man who viewed persistence as a personality trait. If she ignored this call, there would be another. Then another. Then probably an email for good measure.

With a sigh, she answered.

"What?"

"Good morning."

Alessia nearly ended the call.

"Don't you know you aren't supposed to disturb others early in the morning with problems?" she informed him. "It is impractical."

There was a brief pause on the other end.

Then, unexpectedly—

"I'll keep that in mind."

Alessia blinked. Actually blinked. She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. That had almost sounded like humour. Dry humour. The kind that barely qualified as a joke, but a joke nonetheless.

Almost.

"What do you want?"

"The wedding planner would like to meet tomorrow." Alessia stared blankly at the wall. Then at her coffee. Then around her empty kitchen.

"The wedding planner?"

"Yes."

"No."

"You haven't heard the details."

"I don't need the details."

"The meeting will only take an hour."

"I don't care if it's five minutes."

She grabbed her coffee and wandered into the living room, talking with one hand while gesturing wildly with the other despite the fact that Damien couldn't see her.

"No planner. No flowers. No colour schemes. No cake tastings. No venue tours. No discussions. I am not participating in any activity that associates with the word wedding."

"You seem very certain."

"I am."

"Noted."

That was irritating, far more than it should have been.

She dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. Somewhere between yesterday and now, Damien had developed enough of a personality to be annoying in entirely new ways.

"Do you know what's bothering me most?"

"You've mentioned several things. You'll need to narrow it down."

Alessia narrowed her eyes immediately.

"...Was that sarcasm?"

"No."

"It absolutely was."

"It wasn't."

"It was."

A pause.

Then—

"Fine. Perhaps a little."

Alessia looked genuinely offended.

She wasn't supposed to be discovering that Damien possessed a sense of humour. Villains weren't supposed to make jokes. Villains were supposed to stay conveniently unlikeable.

"I liked you better when you sounded like a robot."

"I'll try not to take that personally."

"Please do."

Something that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh reached her through the phone. It wasn't a full laugh, not quite close to it, but the sheer sound of it bothered her, because every time he sounded human, it became slightly harder to fit him into the neat little box she'd created for him in her head.

"You still haven't told me what's bothering you."

The amusement disappeared immediately.

Alessia lowered her coffee and stared at it for a moment.

"Oh. Right."

Her voice was quieter now.

"The fact that nobody asked."

She watched the dark surface of her coffee ripple slightly as she shifted her grip.

"My uncle didn't ask. My aunt didn't ask. Everybody just decided." A humourless laugh escaped her. "They sat me in a room and informed me about my own future like they were announcing a change in office policy."

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

"And you definitely didn't ask."

The words landed heavier than she'd intended. She felt less of anger and something closer to hurt.

Outside, a motorcycle sped past. A horn sounded somewhere down the street. A few seconds passed by with neither of them uttering a word. Then Damien finally said,

"No."

Alessia frowned.

"No what?"

"No. I didn't ask."

The answer caught her completely off guard.

There was no defence in it. No excuse. No attempt to shift blame onto her family or the contract or circumstances.

"You would've said no."

"That's not the point."

"I know."

Alessia sat up straighter. He was starting to sound like he meant it. "Then what is the point?"

Silence stretched between them. Long enough that she almost assumed he wasn't going to answer.

Then—

"The point is that you should've had the choice."

Alessia froze.

She genuinely wondered if she'd heard him correctly.

The words didn't fit the version of Damien she'd built in her head over the last twenty-four hours. They didn't fit the man talking about obligations and wedding planners. They certainly didn't fit the man standing on the opposite side of this disaster helping it happen.

Yet he'd said it so simply.

You should've had the choice.

It wasn't you should accept it. Neither was it, you should understand it.

And just when she thought he was starting to sound less of a robot, "But i didn't have the choice either, you just have to accept it" There he goes, shattering any bit of hope I had for him to be a bit human. As though he understood exactly what had been taken from her.

"The venue has already been booked."

The laughter vanished. Amara blinked.

"What?"

"The venue."

A pause.

"Cancel it."

"It cannot be cancelled."

"It absolutely can."

"No." The certainty in his voice irritated her more than the words themselves. Alessia pushed herself off the couch and started pacing.

"Do you know what your problem is?"

"No."

"You keep acting like everything is already decided."

"It is."

"There you go again."

Five steps across the living room. Turn. Five steps back. The movement wasn't helping, but sitting still felt impossible. Then Damien spoke again.

"Five hundred guests have already accepted invitations."

Alessia stopped walking. Completely.

"What?"

"The invitations were sent last week." For the first time since answering the call, she didn't have a comeback ready. Last week. Before she'd even known about any of this. Before anyone had bothered telling her she was apparently getting married and he said he understood s**t. Her grip tightened around the phone.

"They sent invitations before speaking to me?"

"Yes."

The answer came so easily it almost made her laugh. Almost. Instead, anger crawled higher into her chest.

"That is insane."

"It was necessary."

"No. It's insane." Damien spoke again.

"I need you to return home." Alessia let out a sharp breath.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The actual reason you called."

"I need you home."

"No."

A pause.

Then—

"Alessia."

The way he said her name made her frown. It was the first time he'd sounded remotely human. It sounded softer and less mechanical.

"I am trying to prevent this situation from becoming worse." She laughed again.

"That's funny."

"It was not intended to be."

"Well it is."

She stopped beside the window. "You don't get to tell me what's best for me."

"You are directly involved."

"Because your family and mine decided that for me."

"It was agreed."

"Not by me."

Damien sighed. Actually sighed. The sound caught her off guard. He sounded frustrated and that wasn't his usual emotion.

"Whether you agreed or not does not change where we are now." Alessia stared through the glass.

"Do you even hear yourself when you talk?"

"Frequently." That sounded sarcastic. She rubbed a hand over her face.

"You know what? Even if this wedding somehow happens—and it won't—I'm not playing along. I'm not smiling for photographs. I'm not pretending this is romantic. I'm not becoming some obedient wife because a contract says so."

"I don't expect you to."

"Good." Damien's voice lowered.

"If you do not return, your family will face consequences." Everything inside her went still. The city noise outside seemed to disappear.

"So that's where we are now?" she asked quietly.

"I'm stating a fact."

"You're threatening me."

"No."

"You are."

"Your uncle called me twenty minutes ago."

Alessia frowned.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He informed me he intends to proceed regardless." A knot formed in her stomach. Regardless?

"What does that mean?" Damien didn't answer immediately. And suddenly she didn't like the silence. Not at all.

"What does that mean?" she repeated. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm. That infuriating type of calm that was part of his speech.

"It means if you do not return by tomorrow, your family intends to sign the final documents without you." Alessia froze. For a second she thought she'd heard him wrong. Then she realized she hadn't.

And for the first time since this nightmare had started— She was no longer angry. She was scared.

Then—

Her phone buzzed. A message notification flashed across the screen. Alessia looked down. Her heart immediately kicked against her ribs. The sender's name appeared. Finally. Her coffee sat forgotten on the table. Damien was still talking.

She barely heard him. Her thumb moved before she could think. The message opened.

I'm free now. Come alone. And don't tell anyone where you're going.

Alessia stared at the words. A strange feeling settled in her stomach. It wasn't fear, it was something closer to anticipation.

Because after twenty-four hours of being pushed around, ordered around, and lied to, somebody was finally offering her a chance to do something. To act. To fight back.

"Damien."

"What?" She was already reaching for her keys.

"I have to go."

"We haven't finished."

"No," she said, heading for the door. "You haven't finished."

And before he could respond, she ended the call.