After the wedding, the festivities continued with the reception. Sofia found herself engulfed in a whirlwind from the every click of the cameras, feeling more like a model on a shoot than a bride, while her husband seemed effortlessly comfortable, smiling as if he were a seasoned actor.
Once the rituals and traditions were concluded, including the cake cutting and wine toasts, even the release of doves, Sofia found herself seated at the front, enduring the torturous reception of her so-called wedding.
With a heavy heart, she observed the joyous faces around her, contrasting sharply with her own turmoil, realizing she was now married. But even though he was her husband, they had no say in each other's lives. She couldn't care less about whatever happened to him.
"Hey!"
Suddenly, a voice cut through her reverie, pulling her back to the present. It was her husband, wearing a mischievous grin that only served to ignite her simmering frustration.
His dimpled smile only served to irritate her further.
"What the heck!?" she blurted out, unable to contain her frustration.
He chuckled in response, clearly enjoying her reaction.
"Is my charm really that irresistible, Sofia? Or is it just my devastatingly good looks that leave you at a loss for words?" he teased.
She rolled her eyes, refusing to acknowledge his attempt at humor.
"Ha-ha-ha? I didn't realize you were a comedian. Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Just one look at your face... it's hard not to laugh." she shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm.
"Denial seems to be your specialty too. Tss. Suit yourself." he replied with a dismissive wave, he sauntered away, leaving Sofia seething with frustration.
Later, on the terrace with her father, Sofia couldn't contain her frustration any longer. "What!? This is outrageous, Dad! Aren't we married now? Why do I still have to live with that man?" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with frustration.
But her father remained resolute, asserting his authority as her parent.
"I have the final say, Sofia. Whether you like it or not, you'll have to live with him." he declared firmly.
"Whatever!"
Frustration mounting, Sofia sank into her seat, resigned to the reality of her situation. It seemed there was no escaping the inevitable.
As the night wore on and guests began to depart, Sofia's mind raced with apprehension, each passing moment serving as a stark reminder of the uncertain future that lay ahead.
"Take care on your way home. How about a vacation somewhere? Paris, perhaps?" Uncle Enrico suggested cheerfully.
Sofia's mother chimed in, her gaze laden with meaning. "Who knows, perhaps the pitter-patter of little feet will soon fill your home?"
The conversation sent a shiver down Sofia's spine. The thought of pregnancy was terrifying to her. She couldn't imagine becoming a mother. She cherished her independence far too much for that.
Thankfully, the topic was swiftly dropped, and they were escorted to a grand mansion—a temporary sanctuary amidst the chaos of the day's events.
Exhausted and emotionally drained, Sofia stumbled out of the car, her weary frame a testament to the toll the day had taken on her. Little did she know, fate had one final twist in store.
As she stepped onto the pristine marble floor, disaster struck—a misstep that sent her tumbling to the ground in a whirl of fabric and lace.
"AHHHHH!!" she cried out in pain, her voice echoing through the empty foyer.
Instantly, her family rushed to her side, their concern palpable as they assessed the extent of her injuries.
"Sofia, what happened!?" her mother asked.
"I twisted my ankle." Sofia admitted, wincing as she attempted to stand.
But before she could protest, her husband swooped in, effortlessly lifting her into his arms—a gesture that, while unexpected, offered a brief reprieve from the chaos of the evening. It makes their parents giggle as if they are watching a movie.
"Put me down!" she hissed at Weyn but her husband seems to not hear a thing.
Inside the mansion, Sofia's objections fell on deaf ears as her husband insisted on accompanying her to their bedroom. With each passing moment, Sofia's frustration grew, a simmering resentment bubbling beneath the surface.
"Sofia, Weyn, you're on your own. We have a long journey ahead of us. Enjoy yourselves." her mother said.
"Weyn, take care of Sofia's ankle. Don't let it ruin the honeymoon, alright?" His father said and winked at him as they departed, leaving Sofia in her husband's arms.
Inside the mansion, Sofia voiced her objections to her husband's actions, but ultimately relented, realizing she had no other choice.
"Shall I take you to the room?" he offered, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.
Sofia's response was curt, her irritation evident as she reluctantly acquiesced to his proposal.
"Of course. Did you think I'd willingly subject myself to this?" she retorted, her tone laced with bitterness.
With a resigned sigh, her husband unlocked the door, ushering her inside before promptly shedding his coat and unbuttoning his shirt—a brazen display of nonchalance that only served to fuel Sofia's frustration.
"What in the world are you doing!?" she demanded, her patience wearing thin as she watched him undress.
"You're too loud. Stop shouting." he calmly said to her, casually removing his coat and unbuttoning his shirt.
"Then don't undress here! This is my room." Sofia protested, lying back on the bed.
"It's my room too. If you don't want to sleep beside me, move to another room." he retorted, dropping his pants with a nonchalant air.
"Arghhhhh! You're unbelievable!" she exclaimed, storming out of the room.
Thankfully, her ankle was okay now. There were five rooms in the house. Four were guest rooms, and the master's bedroom was currently occupied by Weyn.
She checked the four guest rooms, only to find them all still unfinished.
As she was about to enter the master's bedroom, an unexpected interruption—
"Damn it! Open the door, Weyn!"
"Hahahaha!" His laughter rang from outside.
Sofia's face is so red because of her anger. He had gone and locked the door. Where was she supposed to sleep now?
"What the heck! Weyn, I'm beyond annoyed!" she shouted.
"Still won't open it."
"Open this darn door!"
"No."
"Ugh! I'm tired. I just want to sleep." Sofia sighed, feeling defeated.
"On one condition." he said, his expression is unreadable.
"What?" Sofia asked warily.
"We will sleep together." he declared, his gaze unwavering.
"...Fine." Sofia conceded reluctantly.
He unlocked the door, and she promptly slapped him in frustration.
"I hate you!" she exclaimed, her anger boiling over.
tsup!
To her surprise, he kissed her cheek as he turned to leave. Sofia couldn't help but feel a pang of regret—a fleeting moment of vulnerability that she quickly suppressed, unwilling to let her guard down in his presence.
With a final glance, he vanished from sight, leaving Sofia alone with her thoughts—a silent witness to the tumultuous emotions that raged within her heart.
Gritting her teeth, Sofia resolved to weather the storm that lay ahead—a tempest of uncertainty and upheaval that threatened to consume her whole. But amidst the chaos, one thing remained clear—she would not go down without a fight.