Unchosen Bride

Amari's Third

"So, you've met your future husband?" A lady said, her voice cutting through the hazy fog in my brain as I blinked up at her from under the tangled mess of blankets.

She was standing there in a casual brown dress that hugged her figure just right, with simple gold accessories glinting in the dim morning light filtering through the window—earrings and a delicate necklace that screamed understated elegance.

She had this knowing smirk on her face as she looked straight at me, her eyes twinkling with amusement like she’d just walked in on some big, juicy secret.

To be honest, I don’t have a freaking clue what’s happening right now because… holy s**t, I’m still butt-naked under this expensive blanket, my skin prickling against the fabric as I clutch it tighter around me like it’s my last line of defense.

My head’s pounding like I got hit by a freight train full of tequila shots, and there’s this warm, heavy presence next to me—a man, snoring softly, his bare shoulder peeking out from under the covers.

And then this randomlady just waltzes in here like she owns the place, tossing out this bombshell about ‘future husband' to me.

Hahaha! I’ve gotta be still dreaming, right? There’s no way this is real life—me, naked in some stranger’s bed, with a hangover from hell, and some chic chick acting like she’s planning my damn wedding.

I rub my eyes with one hand, keeping the blanket clutched tight with the other, and let out a nervous laugh that sounds more like a wheeze.

"Uh, excuse me, ma’am, but I think you’ve got the wrong room or… something," I say, my voice croaky as hell from whatever shenanigans went down last night.

My mind’s racing, trying to piece together the blurry mess of memories—bar, dancing, Inara, Nevin, and then… oh s**t, did I kiss someone?

I glance sideways at the guy next to me, his face half-buried in the pillow, and mystomach does a weird flip as I try to figure out if I even know his name.

Shifting slightly under the blanket, I tug it higher over my chest, my cheeks burning as I avoid the lady’s amused gaze.

"Look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I’m pretty damn sure I’m nobody’s future anything right now," I mutter, my voice still rough but laced with a shaky laugh.

"I mean, no offense to… whoever this is," I gesture vaguely at the sleeping guy beside me, "But I’m just trying to survive this hangover and maybe find my dignity somewhere in this room."

The lady tilts her head, her smirk widening as she crosses her arms, the gold bangles on her wrist jingling softly.

"Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got spunk—I like that," she says with a chuckle.

"You're Amari, aren't you?" she asked with a casual certainty that made my jaw damn near hit the floor, my eyes bugging out as I stared at her like she’d just sprouted a second head.

Why the hell does this random lady know my name?! I’m sitting here, still naked as the day I was born under this fancy-ass blanket, my head pounding from last night’s bad decisions, and now I’ve got some stranger acting like we’re old pals.

"This is such good news for your Mother,, we don’t need to meet you two anymore because you and my son… your future husband have already met," she continued, her smile widening like she’d just announced I’d won the lottery or some s**t.

Okay… what the actual f**k did she just say? I’m still not over the fact that she somehow knows my full name—Hart freaking Dvora, which I’m pretty sure I didn’t drunkenly blurt out to anyone last night—and now she’s dropping this ‘future husband’ bomb on me like it’s no big deal?

Huh?! My brain is scrambling to catch up, but it’s like trying to run through quicksand with a hangover this brutal.

I blink at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, while I clutch the blanket tighter against my chest, feeling the heat creep up my neck.

Holy s**t, Hart, what did you get yourself into last night?

I think, my heart racing as I sneak a glance at the man still passed out beside me, his face half-smashed into the pillow, oblivious to this insane conversation.

"Uh, ma’am, I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong person or… something, because I’m not marrying anyone, especially not some dude I don’t even remember meeting," I say, my voice cracking a little as I try to keep it together.

"I mean, no offense to your son or whatever, but I’m just trying to figure out where my underwear is, not plan a damn wedding!"

She lets out a soft laugh, her gold bangles jingling as she waves a hand dismissively.

"Oh, sweetheart, don’t look so panicked. I’m not here to drag you down the aisle today," she says, her tone teasing but warm, like she’s enjoying watching me squirm under this blanket.

"But I’ve known your mother for years, and we’ve been scheming to get you and my boy together for a while now. Seeing you two… well, like this, just means fate beat us to the punch!"

What in the actual soap opera hell is happening right now? I think, my mind reeling as I try to process her words.

My mom? Scheming? With this man I’ve never seen before in my life? I rub my temple with one hand, the headache throbbing harder as I let out a shaky laugh.

"Look, no disrespect, but I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding. I don’t even know your son’s name, let alone anything about some arranged marriage plot with my mom. Last night was… a blur, okay? A big, messy, probably regrettable blur."

I really can't remember what the hell happened last night, and it's so f****d up because before all this crazy s**t went down, Nevin and I had this huge-ass argument that left me feeling like my heart was being ripped out through my throat.

And then… holy freaking s**t… someone just kissed me out of nowhere, and in my drunken haze, I kissed him back without even knowing who the f**k they were.

But then things got even more insane because apparently we ended up doing something—something involving naked bodies and tangled limbs and way too much tequila—and now his mom has suddenly appeared like some sort of arranged marriage fairy godmother.

His mom?! Telling me he's my future husband?! That's beyond insane, that's straight-up delusional!

"Liora..." I heard the man next to me murmur, his voice low and rough with sleep, still drunk off whatever happened last night.

He was still half-asleep, his eyes fluttering closed as he pulled me closer, my body pressing against his warm skin under the covers. I let out a soft gasp as he tugged me down onto the bed again, our faces inches apart.

"I miss you, Liora..." he murmured, his breath hot against my lips before he slowly blinked open those gorgeous hazel eyes that made my heart skip a beat.

But then… oh s**t… his brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at me like I was some kind of alien creature that had just beamed down from outer space.

"f**k? Who are you?" he asked bluntly, his voice thick with sleep and alcohol and maybe a hint of panic.

I opened my mouth to try to explain—maybe apologize for being in his bed without any damn clue how we got here—but before I could get a word out, his mom spoke up again.

"She's your future wife, Salvino," she said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "She's Amari Dvora."

His hazel eyes widened in shock before narrowing suspiciously as he looked me over, taking in my messy hair and rumpled blanket with a critical gaze.

"Amari Dvora?" He repeated slowly, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You're kidding me. This is some kind of joke, right?"

I shook my head mutely, feeling my cheeks flush hotly under his intense scrutiny.

"No joke," I managed to squeak out finally. "I'm just as confused as you are.”