A Non-Love Contract

Harper Johnson

It never rained in this region during this season. But today is a very strange day: it's actually raining! I think it's clouds doing what I can't do - weeping. Because all I want to do is cry!

I'm about to get married to a guy who can't stand me at all! And I don't even know why! It's like he just randomly decided to hate me. And what's even weirder is that he's the one who suggested this marriage, like some sort of money deal.

My uncle, Leonard, is driving our old Ford gently because of the rain. He is afraid the car will slide with all the water on the road. Sometimes my Aunt Dorothy glances back. She's wearing a simple flowered dress, a little wrinkled from the long drive. I know she's sad for me, but there's no other way to save our family business and help my cousin.

I chose a simple dress: white, but not too fancy like those typical wedding dresses. It's a short dress with high heels. Uncle Leonard is in his well-worn suit, and Aunt Dorothy, though her dress is a bit dated, wears a warm smile that's meant to comfort me.

My future husband insisted that I wear my hair straight, so today it's all up in a bun. My aunt wanted me to wear a simple tiara, which she said brought her good luck at her wedding. It must be a miracle!

We pull up to the chapel where the ceremony will take place. No other cars around. I even wonder if Alex Montreal will show up. Maybe he changed his mind. Who knows?

There are no other guests inside, just a nun who tells us that Mr. Montreal is already inside, although she has no idea where. She goes to bring the priest from the house next door.

The chapel, though small, has a certain charm to its weathered facade. The raindrops on the windows create a cozy, nostalgic atmosphere. My attention turns back to the makeshift altar adorned with a faded cloth. Standing there in my simple white dress, I felt a strange mixture of vulnerability and defiance. The chapel, despite its dilapidated state, becomes a silent witness to a union that feels more like a charade than a sacred vow.

My mouth is dry.

"Calm down, Harper! It'll be over soon," my aunt says, trying to be supportive. But it doesn't really work.

"It will! I promise you, my little treasure, I'll make the money Mr. Montreal is lending us work wonders. Then you can get a divorce soon."

My uncle thinks he can do it. I do believe they love me and mean well, but I'm not sure Mr. Montreal really wants to help our family.

The three of us just stood there, near the altar, in a chapel that felt frozen in time. The air was musty, and the faded tapestries barely clung to the walls. I couldn't help but feel that Alex had chosen this secluded chapel to ensure that no paparazzi would be able to post photos on the Internet, or that no one in his high society circle would be able to reveal the identity of his bride. At least that's the only thought that comes to my mind.

The priest, in his weathered robes, looks on with a mixture of disapproval and discomfort. His face bears the wrinkles of years spent bearing the weight of others' confessions. As him and nun enter the room, the worn pews come into view, devoid of flower arrangements. There's a haunting absence of music, bridesmaids, or groomsmen. An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air, making me crave an escape. To avoid a hasty retreat, I inquire, "Sister, where's the bathroom?"

"At the end of the hall on the right, my child," she replies. I nod and make my way, my aunt seemingly ready to follow, but I stop her. I need a moment alone, perhaps to gather the strength to face what awaits me.

As I approach the bathroom door, a gravelly sound fills my ears. The door is slightly opened, allowing a glimpse into a dimly lit room. A strong man in a finely tailored suit is passionately kissing a woman. It's Alex. It's my fiancé.

"Sorry, I didn't know it was occupied," I say, my voice steadier than my racing heart. The scene doesn't bother me much, or at least I pretend not to.

"Look, Gheena, my bride has arrived!" He exclaims, his cheeks and chin smeared with lipstick, evidence of their fervent encounter.

"Then I guess I should make my way to the guest area," the woman remarks, her tone dripping with mockery as she gives me a condescending pat on the shoulder. She is wearing a form-fitting dress that screams wealth, a stark contrast to the humble surroundings of the chapel.

As she leaves the room for good, I walk past Alex and turn on the sink faucet to get water to wash my face.

"Wow, am I finally going to see Miss Johnson without makeup on?" He comments.

I have no clue what he's talking about; after all, we've only met at dance clubs. Of course, I'd be wearing makeup. All the women were - some less, some more, but at least a bit of lipstick and eyeliner. But I don't bother trying to understand Alex. He must be crazy.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"No. Your girlfriend must be a terrible kisser, since good kisses leave you breathless and unable to talk so much like you do right now!" My voice comes out more cynical than usual.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Come on! Let's just get it done!" He speaks while turning his back to me and heads towards the hall.

"Alex," I touch his arm and he looks at me angrily.

He grabs my hand and pulls it out of his suit with a hint of disgust, "Don't touch me again."

"Why are you proposing this marriage when it's clear you don't want me as a wife, and you know I don't want you as a husband?" For the first time, I ask him genuinely.

He shrugs and straightens his shoulders, adjusting his suit. Then he tightens his tie.

"Because I want to. And it's the only way I can keep paying Sarah's medical bills, so if you don't want her to just languish, let's get this settled."

I walked with him to the altar with my head bowed. I can't hold back the tears any longer, but I take my place as the bride. Alex and I stare at each other. There is no sign of emotion on his face at the sight of my tears. In fact, I have a feeling that's his intention.

The ceremony begins with sweet words of love and companionship, despite the priest's disapproving look.

"Please, that is enough!" Alex commands. "I'm going to renovate this chapel like I promised, but I want you to get to the part where you say, 'I now pronounce you man and wife!'"