Promised wedding
I was kept as a trophy wife for ten years. He
never gave me the wedding he promised, not
even before I died. Then I woke up, back ten
years ago. To avoid that nightmare, the first
thing I did was find his future nemesis. Back
then, he was just a struggling mechanic, dirt
poor. I slammed my debit card on the table.
“Marry me? All my paycheck is yours after we
tie the knot.” He gritted his teeth. “Three grand
a month, and you’ve got a deal.”
- 1.
I proposed to Jake. He looked at me, cigarette
dangling from his lips. “What do you see in
me?” I thought for a moment. “You’re hot?” A
scoff made me blush. I pushed on, “So, is that a
yes?” He stared, like he could see right through
- me. I held his gaze, hoping he’d see my
sincerity. Finally, he grinned. “A wife practically
throwing herself at me? Why not?”
<
Just like that, I was married. The second day
after I came back. Clutching the marriage
certificate, it still felt surreal. I’d met Jake in my
previous life. It was during my seventh year of being locked up by Ashton. I’d escaped the
mansion with nothing but the clothes on my
back. I ran into Jake on the street. By then, he
was a successful entrepreneur, sharply dressed,
with an aura of “don’t mess with me.” I begged
him to help. He arranged a place for me to stay,
and a plane ticket out of town. But Ashton
found me.
Not wanting to dwell on the past, I looked up at
Jake. “Where to now?” “Take you home.” I
paused. “Aren’t we… married?” “So?” “So,
aren’t you going to… take me home?”
