The CEO's Contractual Marriage

Frustrated couple

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.....!!" I screamed, pulling away. The guests gasped in shock. The groom's face turned red as he tried to calm the situation, but my cries only grew louder. "What do you want? You embarrass me, you know!" the groom finally shouted, exasperated. "Huaaa ... huhuhu ... !!" I sobbed uncontrollably.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. They think I'm moved by the priest's words, I thought bitterly. They have no idea how I really feel.

"Miss, we must proceed," the priest urged, his voice a gentle nudge in the silence.

I lifted my head, looking at the man beside me for the first time. His features were striking, his demeanor composed. "You look very handsome, but... may I know, who are you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, laden with confusion and despair.

The guests continued their murmurs, misinterpreting my words as admiration. The whispering swelled around me like a storm, each comment a dagger to my already frayed nerves.

"I accept you in joy and sorrow; I accept you in happiness and disappointment," the priest prompted, his hopeful eyes on me, willing me to repeat after him.

I remained silent, my gaze fixed on the groom. He took my cold hand in his, a gesture meant to ease my nerves but only heightening my anxiety.

"She's just shy," he explained smoothly, kissing the back of my hand with a practiced ease that made my skin crawl.

My heart skipped a beat, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. Oh, my God, I can die! I thought, the room closing in around me.

"You may kiss your bride," the priest announced, his voice ringing with finality.

As the groom reached out to touch me, my composure shattered. The weight of the expectations, the whispers, the looming future all came crashing down. "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.....!!" I screamed, pulling away violently, my voice echoing through the hall.

The guests gasped in shock, their murmurs turning into a cacophony of confusion and disbelief. The groom's face turned an alarming shade of red as he tried to calm the situation, his hands reaching out in a futile attempt to soothe me. But my cries only grew louder, the pent-up emotions of the day exploding out of me.

"What do you want? You embarrass me, you know!" the groom finally shouted, his voice tinged with exasperation and anger.

"Huaaa ... huhuhu ... !!" I sobbed uncontrollably, my shoulders shaking with the force of my grief. The perfect facade of the wedding had crumbled, leaving a raw, exposed truth that no amount of decorum could hide.

The room seemed to spin, the faces of the guests a blur of judgment and pity. The groom's harsh words cut through the air, but I could barely hear them over the roaring in my ears. My world had been upended, and I was left standing in the ruins, my cries the only sound in a hall that had once buzzed with anticipation.

The groom, his patience worn thin, grabbed my hand and led me out of the hall, towards the elevator. His grip was firm, and despite my protests, he didn't let go. The hall's opulent decorations and murmuring guests faded into the background, replaced by the stark, cold reality of his unyielding grasp.

"You're hurting me! Let go of my hand!" I cried out, my voice filled with pain and desperation. The sting of his grip sent waves of agony up my arm, but he ignored my pleas, his eyes focused and unrelenting.

We reached the elevator, its doors sliding open with a mechanical precision that felt eerily detached from the chaos of my emotions. He pulled me inside, and I felt a wave of claustrophobia as the doors closed, sealing us in a confined space.

He dragged me down the corridor to a room, shoving me roughly onto the bed. I clutched my wrist, tears streaming down my cheeks, my sobs filling the silent room.

"What do you want? You embarrass me, you know!" he repeated, his voice breaking with a mix of frustration and desperation.

My sobs only intensified. "Huaaaa ..... huhuhu ... !!" The anguish of the day poured out of me, each sob wracking my body. The room, with its luxurious furnishings, felt like a gilded cage, trapping me in a nightmare I couldn't escape.

The groom stood over me, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. His anger was palpable, but beneath it, I could see a flicker of something else—perhaps regret or confusion. Yet, his actions spoke louder than any unspoken emotion, and his rough treatment left me feeling shattered and helpless.

The weight of the day's events bore down on me, each moment a reminder of the life I was being forced into. The pristine white dress, the whispered judgments of the guests, the cold detachment of the groom—it all culminated in a wave of despair that threatened to drown me.

As my sobs echoed in the room, I felt a deep, aching emptiness. The fairytale wedding had turned into a grim reality, and the man before me, once a mere stranger, was now the embodiment of my anguish. The walls seemed to close in, and I wished desperately for an escape, a way out of the suffocating nightmare that my life had become.

I lay on the bed, feeling utterly defeated. The once-pristine wedding dress was now in disarray, its elaborate fabric tangled around me like a cocoon of despair. My makeup, once meticulously applied, had smeared into a grotesque mask of tears and streaked mascara. Each tear that fell felt like a further shattering of the facade I had been forced to maintain.

The room seemed to close in on me, its opulent decor now a cruel irony against the backdrop of my misery. The once-luxurious surroundings now felt cold and unwelcoming, amplifying my sense of isolation. My sobs had subsided to quiet hiccups, each breath trembling with the weight of my emotional collapse.

The groom’s irritation was palpable, but it did little to assuage the turmoil inside me. His frustration was a sharp contrast to my own, his irritation a futile attempt to manage the chaos that had unfolded. He paced nearby, his footsteps echoing through the room, each step a reminder of the distance between us.

"Oh, my God!" the man whispered irritably, running a frustrated hand through his hair. The gesture seemed almost helpless, a sign of his exasperation.

As he muttered under his breath, my thoughts raced through the events of the day—the forced smiles, the whispered judgments, the crushing weight of expectations. Everything seemed to blur together, forming a painful mosaic of disillusionment and despair.

In that moment of overwhelming vulnerability, I felt a profound sense of disconnection from the world around me. The grand celebration, the promises of love and commitment, all seemed like distant, taunting memories. The reality of my situation was stark and unforgiving, and I lay there, a broken figure amidst the remnants of what was supposed to be a joyous occasion.