Chapter 6 A Truth I wasn't Ready For
I walk down the stairs with slow steps, my heart beating fast. I reach the door of the study and pause, thinking, “Why am I feeling this fear?” Just then, a deep, confident voice comes from inside, “Come in.”
I am stunned, wondering, “How did he know I am here?”
Gathering my courage, I push the door open and enter. Mr. Wilson is sitting on the sofa, and his eyes instantly fall on me. I lower my gaze and stand in silence, asking in a faint voice, “Yes… did you call for me?”
He stands up and slowly approaches me. My hands tremble slightly. I try to back away, but he comes right up to me. As I take a step back, he takes a step forward. I keep retreating until suddenly I realize I am pressed against the wall. I stop. He gets very close to me. In a trembling voice, I stammer, “M-Mr. W-W-Wilson?”
He places a finger on my lips and says, “Shhh…”
He grabs me by my bare waist; his warm hands touch my skin, and my eyes close instinctively. Leaning close to my ear, he says in a deep voice, “Are you very fond of seeing people shirtless? My eyes snap open in shock, and I stammer, “N-n-no.”
As he begins to untie the string of my robe from behind, he says, “You have seen me shirtless; now it is my right to see you topless.”
My eyes widen in horror, and I cry out, “W-what? No..!”
His chest is pressed against mine. I start crying, and tears begin to flow down my face.
When I feel myself crying, he suddenly stops. Maybe my tears dull his anger a little. Sobbing, in a broken voice, I say, “I was just having coffee… then I came to the balcony. That’s when my eyes fell on you… that’s all.”
He looks at me angrily. There is still hardness in his eyes. In a cold, harsh voice he says, “Don’t try to fool me. From your behavior, I could tell exactly what you were feeling. Girls don’t even know themselves as well as I know them. Understood?”
I keep staring at him in shock. My heart is pounding loudly. Without saying anything, he steps closer and fixes the laces of my top again. I lower my head and say softly, “I just… felt something strange.”
He comes close once more. His voice turns deep as he speaks near my ear, “Remember one thing. I am engaged. I married you only to help you.”
My heart feels like it stops for a moment.
Then he adds, “She is coming here today. So it would be better if you keep your behavior under control. And don’t say anything to anyone about this contract marriage.”
I keep looking at him in disbelief. He runs a hand through his hair, steps back a little, and walks out of the study without looking at me.
I feel an odd emptiness inside. I don’t know why, but hearing about his fiancée doesn’t feel good at all. Something sharp pricks my heart, yet I can’t understand that feeling.
As time passes, evening arrives. I sit quietly in the study, feeling low. Through the window, I watch two rabbits playing in the garden, chasing each other. Even their innocent little world fails to lighten my mood.
Suddenly, a loud sound breaks the silence as a car enters through the main gate.
My heart starts pounding fast.
I stand up, but I don’t have the courage to step out of the study. A strange fear settles inside me, “Has his fiancée really arrived? Does he truly love her?”
Thousands of such questions begin swirling through my mind.
I slowly gather myself and, summoning my courage, walk toward the door. I take a deep breath, grip the handle, open it, and step outside. My footsteps fall softly against the floor, as if I’m afraid of even my own presence. Without stopping, I walk straight toward the living area.
When I reach the living room, I stop behind a pillar. Standing there, half-hidden, I look at the scene in front of me. Mr. Wilson is sitting on the sofa, completely absorbed in his laptop. His focus is fixed on the screen, as if the entire world has narrowed down to his work alone. I watch him silently, a strange heaviness settling in my heart.
Just then, my gaze shifts toward the main door.
The door opens, and a young woman walks inside. She looks about twenty-five. She’s wearing a short net dress that highlights her figure completely. She is strikingly beautiful, heavy makeup on her face, black sunglasses over her eyes, her hair perfectly styled. A branded, expensive purse and phone rest in her hands, and long high heels add confidence to every step she takes.
Her entrance is so commanding that it feels as if the entire room turns toward her.
I remain standing behind the pillar, staring at her without blinking. My heart begins to beat in a strange, uneven rhythm. Waving her hand casually, she looks straight at Mr. Wilson says in a cheerful voice, “Hello, Michael.”
She walks directly up to him and, without hesitation, wraps her arms around him in a hug. For me, that moment freezes time. I can’t even move from where I’m standing.
Mr. Wilson gently pulls her away from himself and says in a calm but slightly firm tone,
“You’re here. Go and freshen up.”
She makes a small pout, almost like a child who’s been denied something. With a playful complaint, she says, “No… that’s not how it’s done. I’ve met you after so many days. Can’t you even give me a loving kiss?”
Hearing her words, I remain frozen behind the pillar, completely stunned. My eyes widen on their own. Something inside my chest feels like it cracks apart, but I can’t tell whether it’s jealousy, pain, or simply the fear of facing a truth I wasn’t ready for.
TO BE COUNTINUE...!!!