runaway marriage
I ran away three days before my wedding.
Ethan, my fiancé, killed himself in our new
house and left everything to me. While I was
packing up his things, I saw walls covered in
my pictures, the floor still stained with blood.
His assistant told me, “Mr. Hayes loved you
for years. His depression was severe. Seeing
you, thinking of you, was the only thing that
made him feel better…” Everything was
terrifying, suffocating, and strangely,
incredibly sad. So, when I got a second
chance, faced with my best friend Liam’s
escape plan, I smiled and said, “I’m not
going.” I wanted to see just how far gone this
man who supposedly loved me was.
Ethan died three days after I ran. My dad and
brother apologetically told him I’d skipped
town, and as they drove away from his
mansion, they got the news: Ethan had slit his
wrists. He didn’t make it. His will, already
prepared, left everything to me. I was in
Canada when I got the call from my brother. I
went numb. To me, Ethan was a stranger
who’d forced a marriage proposal on my
family. But everything pointed to a long-
standing, deep love for me.
I flew back for the funeral, stiffly accepting
Ethan’s ashes. He had no family; his
background was a mystery. His assistant
looked sadly at the urn and murmured, “He
loved you for years. His depression was
crippling; only you, the thought of you, kept
him going. I thought… I thought if you
married him, he’d be okay. But…” He trailed
off. He wasn’t blaming me, but the guilt
twisted in my out. He gave me a key “This is
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the estate Mr. Hayes bought for you. The
house he decorated for your wedding.” The
place he died.
The estate was huge, with green lawns and
even a private horse track. Everything was in
my favorite shade of sapphire blue. The
furniture, the décor, all my taste. One room
was filled with pictures of me. From
sophomore year of college onwards –
snapshots of my life, like he’d been watching
- me. The bloodstains on the floor were dark
and stark. It was all horrifying, suffocating.
And I was so, so sad. Then the anger hit. If he
loved me, why didn’t he say something? Why
barge into my life, demanding marriage? How
could I have ever said yes? Was this his plan
all along? To die and make me feel guilty for
the rest of my life? Fat chance. I donated
everything, including the house. The cleaning
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crew ripped the photos off the walls, tossing
them onto the floor to cover the blood. Ethan
Hayes, with his short, strange life, vanished.
It took me three days to accept I’d been given
a second chance. Three days ago, Ethan had
come to my family, practically forcing a
proposal down our throats. Liam, my best
friend since childhood, immediately told me to
run, hide out in Canada. That’s what I did last
time. This time, remembering the photos, the
blood, I shook my head. “I’m not running.” |
said, “I need to find out why he wanted to
marry me.”
Ethan was a big deal. He was in a meeting
when I arrived. His assistant took me to his
office. “He’ll be down shortly.” I just nodded.
He was quick. Before I’d even finished my
tea, he strode in, fastening his cufflinks. He
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stopped when he saw me. “Ms. Gray,” he
said, his face cold and distant, like I was a
stranger. His coldness threw me. “Mr. Hayes,”
I finally asked, “my father says you want to
marry me. Why?” “I want to, that’s reason
enough.” He said. I was speechless. How was
I supposed to respond to that? I grabbed my
purse. “I’ll be going then.” Ethan’s expression flickered with surprise. “Leaving already?” |
stared at him until his face went pale, a look
of resignation washing over him. He stepped
aside to let me pass. If I hadn’t known he
supposedly loved me, I would’ve thought he was messing with me. I sighed and grabbed his sleeve. “How about we have dinner?”
Our interaction clearly unnerved Ethan’s
assistant. As I left, he apologized profusely. “Mr. Hayes isn’t good with… women. Please don’t be offended, Ms. Gray.” “I’m not
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offended.” I smiled. “I rather like his… look.
It’s very much my type.” The office door
wasn’t completely closed. I saw Ethan touch
his face, looking bewildered. I grinned at the
assistant. “I’m taking your boss to dinner
tonight. Remind him, okay? Don’t let him
stand me up.” He nodded frantically, like I
might change my mind. As I walked out, my
phone buzzed. Liam. I ignored it, staring at
the clouds, my mind racing.
Liam was a good friend. He always looked
out for me. But best friends, like all
relationships, fade. Like they did last time. He
met someone, got married, had kids. We
drifted apart. When I was trapped in the
mountains with a research team, his wife
answered his phone and mocked me for
being a spinster. Liam was there, silent. I died
out there, alone. I wonder if he even cared.
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Ethan arrived early for dinner. The
atmosphere was frigid. I tried to make
conversation, but he was a one–word–answer
machine. I put my cutlery down. “Mr. Hayes,
you’re making me think you don’t actually
want to marry me.” He swallowed, looking
down. “I’m sorry.” “That’s not what I want to
hear.” I was getting frustrated. “You’re a
business tycoon, a ruthless negotiator. You
read people like books. Yet you’re acting
like… you have zero interest in me.” His
knuckles went white as he gripped his hands.
“Don’t think that,” he said, his voice tight.
“It’s just… I’ve never been this close to you before. It’s… unsettling.” This sudden, almost
confession–like statement surprised me. His
nervousness, the way he was hurting himself,
it seemed genuine. I remembered his
assistant’s words: “Only seeing you made him
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feel better “Mr Haves” Lasked suddenly.
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curious, “have we met before?”
