A Simple Favor

If anyone ever approaches you with a ‘proposal’ and offers you a sum of money to marry them, handsome or not, especially if you know nothing about them, just turn and run. 

Why? Because that is the situation I found myself in now and I’m afraid of being a runaway bride. For one, I have already accepted the first monthly payment with a goofy grin on my face, like the greedy idiot I am. And I have also signed a contract, which I didn’t read so yeah. I’m fucked.

An icy chill runs through my body because I am terrified of what was waiting for me behind the doors, which leads to a lush green garden. Maybe it’s better to say who is waiting for me. A man I hardly know. We met only three times, and it was to go over our ‘wedding’ plans.

‘’Ready?’’ a voice asked.

I look at the wedding planner, wanting to shake my head, but there is no backing out now. Besides, I fear what these overly rich-people will do to me.

When the door finally opens, all the attendants there stand up at attention when the music begins to play, most of them seem just as lost as I am but to my surprise, none of them seem to hold any malice as I thought they would have.

‘’Am I really doing this?’’ I question myself.

But it is too late for that question. I am already at the altar with Asher’s stone-cold face staring back at me.

He had basically dragged me into his office and offered a ‘business deal.’ At first, I laughed in his face, but after hearing the amount of money he would pay me per month, and with the debt I am in, I just couldn’t turn him down.

“Do you, Millie Boswell, take this man? Asher Thomas, to be your husband?”

‘’Hell no. And notice how he left out lawful?’’ I thought to myself.

“To love, honour, and cherish for as long as you both shall live?”

I stared back at Asher, wondering if I am really going through with a sham marriage.

The silence stretches on far longer than we wanted it to, but I am too nervous to speak up. Afraid that the lump in my throat would make my voice appear squeaker than it usually is, or that I would say the wrong thing.

If only the people who have gathered there today know the truth, it is all just an act Asher and his family is putting on too well.

We are surrounded by people I don’t know and only a few of my friends who seem just as shocked by the entire wedding as those who came to support Asher.

No one was cheering us on. Neither I nor Asher is happy, just a stony face staring back at a frightened one.

I looked down at the pink bouquet that had peacock feathers intertwined in it. It matched my beautiful, puffy light pink dress, which I never thought to wear on a fake occasion.

Then gazed up at Asher who was wearing a tailored light pink tuxedo to match my dress. At first, I wanted to laugh but after seeing how he looked in it, but couldn’t help and admire him. Besides, the suit was worth more than the debt I was drowning in.

‘’Holy shit,’’ I accidentally said aloud.

Asher gave a tight smile before saying, ‘’you have to finish your vows.’’

‘’Yes, of course.’’ I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat. 

Asher frowned as he waited for me to speak.

The panic is starting to kick in again because this isn’t what I wanted. I never thought of marriage once in my life, but yet there I am.

My breathing came out in a rush as the words ‘’I do’’ leave my lips.

It feels as if I am about to pass out from the fast beating of my heart because it is pumping way more blood than it needs to and now I might have high blood pressure.

I just hope not to pass out, bringing even more embarrassment to myself.

The smiling Asher said ‘I do’ as well, and that is the first time since knowing him, even though it was just a week, had ever seen such a lively expression on his face.

The pastor called for us to exchange rings, and again my nerves skyrocket.

‘’I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,’’ the pastor announces.

Asher glances at me and I know exactly what he is thinking because it is the same thing running through my mind.

‘Do we have to kiss?’

And to my surprise, he places a hand around my waist and pulls me close before placing a soft kiss on my lips.

Well, I guess that’s it. I’m married now.

My now official fake husband holds my hand as we continue on with the show and walk off the stage just for the sake of the people that are now clapping for us.

I force a smile as we walk to the end of the walkway. There Asher does something unexpected. He presses another kiss on my lips, which seems much longer than the first.

God, I just hope I don’t go to hell for this, because our marriage isn’t one done out of love, but one of power and greed. But at least I will benefit from this. 

‘’Time for the reception,’’ Asher said, taking my hand again and pulling me along with him to the area set up for the party.

I won’t lie. The place is beautifully decorated, but it isn’t my thing. Weddings aren’t my thing.

As Asher walks me over to the table that is decorated in all white, I feel myself going hot and cold. He acts like a gentleman and pulls out my seat.

“Congratulations. I wish you two a happy life together.” A woman who is patting daintily at her eyes smiles at us.

It is nothing but fake smiles and laughs from us as our pictures are taken and people come to wish us well.

I guess everything else went by in a blur after that, because the next thing I know, I am being helped in the back of a car that smells like leather and cigarettes. 

‘’Oh, my God,’’ I let out as we are now driving back to his place where I have to stay so we can keep up with this image.

“Is everything okay?” Asher asks.

I turned my head to look at him with a small smile. “Yes. No. I mean, we are married. What happens now?’’

‘’You don’t need to worry. All we have to do is pretend to be a happily married couple for a year as best as we can until you get what you want.

‘’And what do you want exactly? Because we never established what you would get out of this.’’

‘’I’m just trying to help.’’ Asher smiles.

I narrow my eyes at him because one does just help an illegal immigrant, especially with not knowing them.

‘’Are you?’’

‘’Yes, there are no strings attached.’’ He gives another smile, one that I know he must have practiced many times to get what he wants.

I sit back in the car, as his driver weaves in and out of the late evening traffic and I can’t help but think back to the day he basically dragged me into his office after an employee of his told him that I was trying to seek employment with fake documents.

At first, I thought my ass was grass, until he offered a deal.