Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Kane,” I choke out, confused by his words and unsure what to say to that.
This is an arranged marriage gone wrong.
A forced marriage.
So, why does he sound like he wants it to be more?
Before I can ask him, the song ends, and everyone claps. The deejay welcomes everyone onto the dance floor, and since I need a minute to collect my thoughts, I excuse myself to the restroom. But before I can get away, a beautiful woman who looks just like Kane approaches.
“Mom, this is Brielle. Brielle, this is Silvia Morgan, my mom.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Morgan,” I say politely.
“Please, call me Silvia. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know you would be in town. Will you be staying?”
Silvia glances between Kane and me. “I think I’m going to stick around for a little while, spend some time with my son, and I would love to get to know you as well. I’ve rented a condo downtown …”
“What?” Kane asks. “We have the in-law suite behind the house.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But I’d imagine, with you being newlyweds, you’ll want your privacy.”
She winks playfully, and my stomach drops because, like my mom, she doesn’t know the marriage is a farce.
“I have to use the restroom,” I tell them both and then take off.
“You okay?” Nicole asks when she walks into the restroom immediately after me.
“He said he meant his vows,” I whisper. “I just don’t understand.”
“A lot of people who get married the way you did end up having feelings.”
“Not me,” I choke out, even though we both know I’m lying. “He forced me to marry him, the same way the men in my life have forced their wants and needs and demands on me my entire life. I might be attracted to him, but I can never love Kane.”
I look in the mirror and make a silent vow to never let Kane in. “He might have pretty words, but this relationship isn’t real. And it never will be.”
“I’m tired,” I say a few hours later when we walk into the empty house.
Kane frowns but nods in understanding. “Do you need help taking the dress off?”
“No, I got it,” I say, my tone harsh.
I head inside the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, and when I can’t get the dress undone, I rip it so I can get it off. It doesn’t matter. I have no intention of saving the dress. It’s just another reminder that our marriage is bullshit. Kane might’ve meant his vows, but does it matter if they’re not accompanied by his heart?
Underneath the dress, I’m wearing a white lace bridal set that I will not be putting to use. I take them off, tossing it into the pile with my dress, and then I grab my makeup remover and start washing my face. When my eyes catch a glimpse of my rings, I pull the gaudy one off my finger and set it in the soap dish, only leaving the wedding band.
I shower, and when I go out to the bedroom, Kane isn’t there. So, I get dressed, and then I slide into bed, where I refuse to cry myself to sleep. All these men have taken enough from me. I’m not going to let them have my tears too.
25
Kane
“Morning,” Brielle mutters, joining me in the bathroom.
When I came back to the room last night and found her asleep, I went down to my office and worked for a while, giving her some space.
I don’t know what happened last night, but it feels like all the progress we’d made was wiped out.
“Morning,” I say back, sticking my toothbrush in my mouth.
I’m not shocked to see her in here with me since she joins me every morning to shower and get ready for the day, but I am surprised she’s doing it after the way she pushed me away last night.
Maybe she was just tired?
She grabs the toothpaste, applies some onto the brush, and when she drops the tube, my eye catches her engagement ring in the soap dish.
She took it off.
“You’re not wearing the engagement ring?” I ask.
She glances down at it and flinches. It’s so quick that if I wasn’t watching her, I wouldn’t have caught it—but I was, and I did.
“I’m sure a lot of women would love the ring,” she blurts out, not looking at me. “But it’s just not for me. I always imagined when I was proposed to, it would be because the man I was with loved me, and the ring would symbolize that love.” She shrugs. “This ring is huge, and like I said before, it just looks like it’s trying to make a point.” Her eyes finally meet mine. “And I don’t like the point it’s trying to make.”
The point it’s trying to make.
The forced marriage.