A wife

Edith's POV

I woke up with a start.

Looking up at the intimidatingly tall ceiling, I instantly realized that I wasn't in my bedroom at my parents’.

Before I could rack my brain for more answers, an agonizing tide of headache gripped my temples, causing me to groan and close my eyes, as I turned sideways.

Shortly after, I opened my eyes and to my utter shock, Caruso was sitting on a chair across from the bed.

He was still clad in his outfit from yesterday, albeit without his coat, his mien indecipherable.

One swift glance around told me this was a hotel room.

“Good morning, wife.” He said, a wry smirk suddenly appearing on the right corner of his lips.

What was Caruso on about?

“What are you saying?” I asked, wincing as a particularly aggressive ache attacked me right on my forehead.

I still couldn't recall anything, beyond him asking me out for drinks at the balcony.

Something hit me then.

What if he had forcefully had his way with me?

With my heart in my throat, I looked into the duvet, and thankfully I was still clad in the silk emerald gown that'd been my maid of honour regalia.

“You fell asleep, and I wouldn't do anything to you without your permission,” He chipped, as though reading my thoughts, “Look to your left for the answer to your question.”

Darting him a repulsed look, I did as he said.

By my left was his coat and a piece of paperwork on it

Picking up the paperwork knocked the air out of my lungs, causing me to open and close my mouth wordlessly, like a fish out of water.

It was a marriage certificate appended with mine and Caruso's signatures.

As I opened my mouth to speak, the memories of last night wafted into my head in an instant burst, heightening my headache.

Now, I remembered everything.

From getting plastered, then accepting Caruso’s abrupt proposal, so I could secretly pretend I was marrying Murphy, and the hot kiss we’d shared, to us arriving at the hotel afterwards.

The government really needed to stop people from building wedding chapels around bars, because of stupid drunks like me.

“Why would you even propose to a drunk person?” I hollered, disdain tinged with trepidation coursing through me.

As though having to sit through Murphy and Heather's wedding wasn't hell enough, I had gone on to marry a total stranger.

My level of idiocy was truly knew no bounds.

It dawned on me then that I'd left my family, including Murphy at the wedding hall, without a coherent explanation.

As I reached for my phone on the nightstand, Caruso's voice drifted into my line of hearing.

“Good. You remember everything now,” He uttered, to my further shock.

Caruso was ridiculous, I thought as I tapped on my phone screen. Unfortunately, it failed to come on, signalling that the battery was dead.

Just my luck.

“We need to get an annulment,” I replied, “This marriage was never supposed to happen in the first place.”

“Why not?” Caruso pushed, which made me look at him like he'd gone mad.

I couldn't believe he was the same man I'd met last night.

“You can't possibly be serious with that question,” I said.

“I am,” He responded.

This man was even odder than I thought.

“For starters, we are strangers,” I retorted, “Also, I don't love you.”

“You love Murphy.” He deadpanned, and I felt the colour leave my face. “You pretended I was him at the chapel last night.”

Right, I had told him everything while inebriated.

“Yes, I did,” I admitted, “So, what? Let’s focus on the issue on ground now.”

“You are right,” He agreed with a nod, to which I huffed, “About the annulment, I will only agree to it on one condition.”

“Which is?” I asked, cautiously.

Standing up, he crossed over to the bed, his grey eyes boring into mine.

Before I could even make an attempt to retreat, he placed his hands by my head, trapping me to the bed.

Leaning in, he steered his gaze to my mouth, and I felt a hot thrill shoot through me, especially as our lips were barely an inch away from meeting.

Scalding flashbacks from the ferocious smog of last night burned through my brain, causing me to gulp slowly.

“Let me bed you for three months with payment,” Caruso dropped the bomb and my jaw hit the floor, “That way, you can take your mind off Murphy for a while, and I can get what I want. Which is you.”

“You are crazy.” was all I could afford to say in complete astonishment.

“I know,” Caruso smirked, “And we both know I could have taken what I wanted last night, but I didn't. I prefer mutual consent during sex.”

“How chivalrous.” I spat out sarcastically, and he chuckled.

A deep, rich sound that went straight into my core. Just like it’d done last night.

What was it about this man that made me feel things I never had?

“Right?” Caruso said, “It's a fair deal, no?”

I huffed incredulously, as his sardonic demeanour had rendered me speechless.

How could someone as normal as Murphy have befriended a demented person like Caruso?

“Get off me,” I hurled, “I am not interested in being your sex toy. You can look elsewhere for that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, wife. I am not asking you to be my sex toy. I want you as my sex partner,” Caruso continued, ignoring my first statement, “I find you very hot, and I need to have you in my bed.”

“You are never gonna!” I slammed, then shoved him off me, with all my strength.

Swiftly, I got out of bed as he stood up with a wry smirk.

At that moment, I felt like a prey, being hovered over by a deranged predator.

“Those three months will be the best of your life, Edith. I will make sure of it.” He bragged, as I crouched to grab my silver stilettos.

“You know what?” I shot at him in utter rage, “Let's just remain married forever then. I can't deal with you!”

With that, I stormed out of the room.

I had no intention to ever get married anyway.

One day, Caruso would definitely want to get married for real. Then, he would seek me out for an annulment.

Soon after, I was ensconced in a cab.

Thankfully, I was able to find some cash in my purse, which I used to pay the cab driver that took me home.

Stepping into the gate, I sighted my mum sitting on the porch from afar, and my stomach curled into tight knots of anxiety.

Even if I tried, I couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse that could have possibly caused me to leave my sister's wedding.

“Her majesty has returned,” My mum glowered at me, “Should I roll out a red carpet for you?”

Oh, god.

Before I could respond, dad came out of the house.

Unlike mum, he seemed more relieved than pissed to see me.

“Where did you go last night?” Dad asked, in his usual collected tone.

“I had to deal with something personal, and I didn't know it would take a while,” I fibbed, “I would have called but my phone went off. I'm really sorry for bothering you two.”

Standing up, mum gave me a reproachful look and walked into the house.

Leaving me and dad to stare at each other; me in guilt, and him in sympathy.

Only the heavens knew how she'd react if she found out that I'd accidentally gotten married to a stranger.