"It's getting late. Go to bed."
His deep, husky voice jolted me from my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I lifted my gaze, meeting his eyes, and found myself caught in the intense emotion I couldn't quite decipher. My grip tightened around the hem of my wedding dress as my heartbeat quickened.
Since entering the room, I had been sitting on the edge of the bed, so tense that my back ached from the straightness of my posture. I hadn't even changed out of my wedding dress. It wasn't until he came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, that it hit me—I was going to spend the night with this man, my new husband. But I had no idea what to do, what to say.
I had married him as a substitute, taking my sister's place. My mind raced back to the arrangement that had been made by the previous generation of our families. He was the son of a once-powerful family, but now he had nothing. I had been chosen to fulfill a marriage pact and secure a hefty sum of money. Money that would allow my mother to get the treatment she needed and give my younger brother the chance to continue his education. It was the only way our family would survive.
I took a deep breath, my nerves gnawing at me. I couldn't help but inch toward the bathroom like a frightened rabbit.
"I… I'll take a shower too," I stammered, trying to sound confident but failing.
His gaze darkened, and I hurriedly darted into the bathroom. As I reached for the door, I froze. There was no lock. It was a run-down wooden door that couldn't even offer me the privacy I desperately needed. I stared at it, feeling a sense of disbelief wash over me. No matter how difficult life had been, I had never been this poor.
My eyes welled with tears, and I bit my lip, resisting the urge to cry. I stood there, motionless, unsure of what to do next. I didn't even dare to undress.
Then, his voice came again, unexpectedly soft. "I'll have a smoke outside. Take your time."
I could hear his footsteps retreating down the hall, the sound of the door creaking as it swung open and then closed. The silence that followed was deafening. I pressed my ear against the door, feeling a mix of tension and relief.
The décor in the small bathroom was worn, the walls peeling with age. The night before the wedding, a typhoon had ransacked the city, and now broken billboards and snapped trees littered the roads. My wedding day had been overshadowed by disaster.
There had been no extravagant wedding car, no grand procession. I had walked a long way before being shoved into an unremarkable van that took me through endless stretches of muddy roads, all while my wedding dress grew dirtier by the minute. It felt like the universe had conspired to make this day as miserable as possible.
I had heard the elders' warnings, how couples married in such terrible weather wouldn't find happiness. But, truthfully, I had long given up on the idea of happiness. I didn't deserve it.
I finished drying my hair, hoping to regain some sense of composure. He still wasn't back. It seemed he was taking his time.
I glanced around the two-room cottage. Rain leaked in through several spots in the ceiling, and the place was a mess. But I couldn't help the small, wistful smile that tugged at my lips. With some cleaning, this could be a cozy home.
I began tidying up, trying to distract myself, my movements slow and careful. But when I bent to pull the sheets off the bed, I heard the door creak open. Startled, I whipped around—too quickly, and in the process, my towel slipped from my body.
I gasped, instantly wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to cover up. But it was too late. He had already seen everything.
Heat flooded my face as I scrambled to tug the sheets over my body, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.
His gaze darkened, a look of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. His lips parted slightly as he swallowed, and I felt my pulse race, unsure of what was coming next.
His voice was low, almost a whisper. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed."
The way he emphasized the word "let's" sent a shiver down my spine.
My heart seemed to leap into my throat. My eyes fluttered shut in panic as I suddenly felt a strong, firm grip around my waist. Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms, and I w
as gently but firmly pushed onto the bed.