Two

Sophia fixed her eyes on the empty chair meant for her groom, Damien. Her hands trembled, clutching the bouquet of flowers so tightly that the steams began to wilt. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her eyes stung from unshed tears. This was very embarrassing.

Why didn’t he say he didn’t want to go ahead with the marriage instead of making her a bride who was abandoned by her groom in the court house?

Her elder sister, Lena, leaned forward and whispered in the most taunting tone.

“You see, he doesn’t want you either. No one does, and no one will ever, bitch.”

Sophia didn’t respond, she blinked her eyes severally to hold back her tears. No, she wouldn’t give her sister the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“He wants me and he’s going to be here soon,” she said even though she knew she was lying to herself. This was an arranged marriage. The groom clearly had no interest in her.

“Hmph! You are still as dumb as ever,” Lena scoffed.

The fluorescent lights hummed, there was an uncomfortable silence in the courthouse.

The Judge’s sympathetic gaze met Sophia’s. She tore her eyes away and looked down, counting the cracks in the courtroom tiles.

One, three, five, twelve… anything to distract herself.

Then, there was a steady click of shoes on the marble floors. A man in a well tailored suit strode in. His hair perfectly brushed, smelling like expensive cologne and indifference.

But it wasn’t the groom. His eyes scanned the room, locking onto Sophia’s anxious face before he turned to the judge.

“Mr. Sterling regrets he couldn’t attend, he sent me with his power of attorney.”

The judge scrutinized the documents.

“Very well, let’s proceed,” the judge responded.

The man, who happened to be Damien’s assistant, Reginald, placed a single pen on the table like a weapon. He slid over a document already signed by Damien Sterling in bold slashing strokes.

Reginald signed the marriage register on behalf of Damien, alongside Sophia’s signature. The judge and the witnesses signed as well.

With the ceremony concluded, the assistant turned to Sophia. He handed her a key card.

“Ma’am, here’s the key to your new home. A car will collect you in five minutes. Mr. Damien will meet you at home.”

Sophia hesitated, unsure of what to do.

“I’ve seen stranger unions, but never a groom who couldn’t be bothered to show,” she thought.

When her parents first talked about marrying her off, claiming it was her chance to be useful to them for the first time, she thought this could be her chance to live happily ever after.

She hoped she would get love and affection from the groom but the day's events said otherwise.

As the car got to the house, the gates of the mansion swung open, revealing a grand driveway. The car pulled to halt and the driver opened the door. As she stepped out, the driver nodded respectfully, saying,

“Welcome home, madam.”

The mansion was breathtaking, the biggest and most beautiful Sophia had ever seen. Well, what was she expecting? This was the richest man in the country.

She had been instructed not to bring anything, as everything she needed would be provided. Damien had been specific about it, saying that he wanted to ensure that no… unwanted items entered his domain.

Recalling that, Sophia rolled her eyes. She called him “an arrogant brute” in her heart while making her way to the entrance.

She used her keycard to open the door and let herself in. The house was silent, with no signs of servant activity. She was surprised, for she expected a man as powerful as Damien to have a house filled with servants at his beck and call.

However, the house was sparkling clean so she assumed that the servants came to do the job and left immediately after.

“Welcome, madam,” a soft voice called out from the foyer. A middle aged woman with a kind smile and a neat attire emerged, introducing herself as Mrs. Jenkins, the housekeeper.

Madam? It dawned on her that her status and home had changed.

“The master had instructed me to show you to your room. Everything you need is already provided.”

Mrs. Jenkins then led her through spacious halls, pointing out a few rooms until they got to the designated room.

“This will be your room, ma’am. If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to let me know. After you have rested, I’ll give you a tour around the mansion if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll love that, thank you very much.”

“There’s one more thing, ma’am,” Mrs. Jenkins began in a low tone.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“The master’s wing is by the left and he’s currently in his study. He prefers minimal disturbances so it's best to avoid that side of the house.”

“That fool! He’s been home all along and thought it wise to make me a laughing stock by standing me up in court!” she cursed within. He was indeed colder than the rumors said.

“Alright, thank you,” she said aloud. The housekeeper bowed and left the room.

Sophia’s curiosity piqued. She wondered what her supposed husband was like, slowly, her gaze drifted towards the master’s wing.

She got up and walked towards the left side of the house where Damien stayed. She raised her hands to knock but suspended them midair when she remembered Mrs. Jenkins words.

“Well, a little introduction won’t hurt, will it? I’m his wife anyways.”

She drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was no response. What was he doing inside? What would be his reaction if she came in? Would he hug her and apologize for missing their wedding?

That would be the perfect thing to do but she knew within her that the cold brute in there, as he was rumored to be would do no such thing.

She knocked again and opened the door. She peeked in and saw him seated behind a desk. He wore a shirt but it wasn’t buttoned. Goodness, his body was…..

She didn’t have the chance to observe more before he raised his head, noticing the presence of another person in the room.

His handsome face greased into a frown on seeing an intruder and an even deeper frown when he saw who it was.

“You? What are you doing here? Who the fuck let you in, you bloody stalker?”

“I…” she opened her mouth to explain but her words failed her. How did she fail to recognize this face from the pictures? Damn her!

“Have you come to spy on me in my own house so you can sell the news to the press?” he roared, his eyes blazing hot.

“No, please. I… I haven’t. I’m your wife.”