I Am In Love With A Stranger

He grabbed her by the waist, his grip firm yet intoxicating.

The heat of his body pressed against hers as he bent closer, his voice a velvet whisper that brushed against her ear.


“You are mine.”


Sophia’s breath quickened, shallow and erratic, as if the very air between them belonged to him.

His hand slid upward, caressing her lips with a teasing thumb. His eyes, dark, consuming, and merciless pulled her deeper into a place she didn’t want to escape.


“You need to wake up,” he murmured.


Her lashes fluttered open, light spilling into her vision.


“The same dream again,” she groaned, her voice hoarse with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. She pressed her palm over her eyes, trying to block out the phantom heat of his touch.
“He is so… bad,” she muttered aloud, forcing herself upright.


Dragging herself to the cupboard, Sophia tugged open the drawer and pulled out a faded photograph.

The picture was worn, edges curled, as though her countless sighs had weathered it down. She stared at the boy in the photo, her betrothed husband. His little smile, captured at barely eight, looked innocent and strange now, like someone she no longer knew.


“He’s probably more handsome than this now, right?” she whispered with a sarcastic smirk.


Her lips pressed together in a reluctant smile, though her chest tightened with uncertainty.
Suddenly, the door banged open.


“Hey! Hey!” Sophia flinched. “Ava! I have a door you could knock on, you know.”


“Why should I knock?” Ava waltzed in without a hint of guilt. Her wild curls bounced as she moved across the room, her energy always reckless and alive. “I only knock when you’ve got company. Until then, I consider your room public property.”


Sophia narrowed her eyes. “I swear, one day…..”

“Oh please.” Ava grinned and leaned over Sophia’s shoulder, spotting the picture in her hand. She jabbed a finger against it. “Don’t tell me you’re still obsessing over this guy. Your mysterious future husband who, for all you know, could be bald by now?”


“Don’t be ridiculous…”


“Ridiculous?” Ava cut her off. “What’s ridiculous is being twenty-six, gorgeous, rich, and clinging to an eight-year-old photograph like it’s the Holy Grail. And somewhere out there, he’s probably staring at the same outdated picture of you. You rich people and your weird traditions.”


Sophia sighed heavily and slid the photo back into the cupboard. “This is driving me insane. I don’t even know what he looks like now.”


“You’re losing it, Soph.” Ava flopped onto her bed with zero ceremony. “Anyway, did Dream Guy show up again last night? Did you two do more… touchy-touchy things?”


Sophia rolled her eyes. “Why do I even tell you these things?”


“Because you love me.” Ava hopped up and yanked a milk container from the freezer. She unscrewed the lid and took a long gulp, spilling some on her shirt.


Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are a grown woman, Ava. A grown woman dripping milk down her blouse.”


“Don’t you dare mock me.” Ava wiped her chin, unbothered. “You know, I almost wish I had a man betrothed to me. Life would be so much easier. No heartbreaks. No games. No ghosting. Just boom, destined husband.”


“You think this is easy?” Sophia snapped, collapsing onto her bed. Her voice cracked as she spoke.

“Do you know how suffocating it is? New York is full of men, but I can’t even date because what’s the point? Why waste my time when there’s a man I’m supposed to marry? A man I’ve never even met.”
She sprawled across the mattress, staring up at the ceiling as if it might offer answers. “Now that I’ve graduated, it’s only a matter of time. The walls are closing in.”


Ava set the milk down and crossed the room, her playful smirk softening. “Soph… you need to loosen up. Honestly, who would believe that a twenty-six-year-old princess…”.


“Stop calling me that,” Sophia warned.


“Fine. Fine.” Ava raised her hands. “But seriously, you’re still a virgin. You’ve never even partied. You’ve never lived. Once you’re married, that’s it. Game over. No freedom. So why not have some fun now?”


Sophia arched a brow. “Fun?”


“There’s this club down the street,” Ava said, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Let’s go tonight.”


Sophia scoffed. “Ava, it’s 9:08 p.m. I’m not going out.”


“Oh, you’re going out.” Ava snatched a pillow and waved it threateningly.


“I dare you.”


Ava swung it lightly against her, sending Sophia tumbling from the bed with a groan.


“Come on,” Ava begged, tugging on her arm. “Please! Just one night. What’s the worst that could happen?”


Sophia studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Only on one condition. You drive. And if you crash, so be it. I’m too lazy to care.”


Ava laughed, victorious. “You’re insane. But deal.”


After what felt like an hour of coaxing, dressing, and makeup, the two women finally emerged from the apartment.


Sophia stepped out in a short black dress that clung to her figure, paired with sleek designer heels she had bought the weekend before.

Ava matched her energy in her own version of a black different cut, equally stunning.


“Ready?” Ava asked, eyes twinkling.


Sophia glanced at her Maserati Gran Turismo parked in front of them, then tossed the keys at Ava.

“Try not to kill us.”


Ava smirked as the engine roared to life. “No promises.”


Sophia stared out the window during the ten-minute ride, her thoughts whirling.

Maybe Ava is right. Maybe one night of fun could help me forget him… the dream man and my betrothed husband. Maybe I need to flirt, to taste the freedom I’ve been denied. Before my life belongs to a stranger.


The club pulsed with energy.

Music thumped through the ground, neon lights rippled across the crowded dance floor, and the air smelled of perfume, sweat, and electric possibility.


As soon as Sophia and Ava walked in, heads turned. It was as though the room stilled for a fraction of a second, captivated by their arrival.


They walked in slow stride, Beyoncé’s “Girls” blaring in the background, commanding attention without effort. Ava soaked in the stares like a queen on her throne, while Sophia offered only a nervous smile.


At the bar, Ava ordered a cocktail with tequila, Sophia a martini.


“I see someone is stepping up,” Ava teased.


“You told me to have fun,” Sophia replied, lifting her chin.


For a while, they sipped, laughed, and leaned against the counter. But Ava soon excused herself to greet a friend, leaving Sophia alone.


Sophia tapped her glass nervously. “And… she’s gone.”


The bartender gave her a small smile, which she returned awkwardly before downing the martini in one gulp.


“Uh… not supposed to do that?” she asked sheepishly.


“Not unless you’re good at drinking,” the bartender said, amused. “And you don’t strike me as the type.”

Sophia chuckled nervously. “Well, you’re wrong. I’m… experienced. Totally.”


A voice beside her interrupted. Deep, smooth, and laced with amusement. “I see that.”


She turned. A man stood there, tall, late twenties, his smile sharp but not unkind. His presence filled the space beside her like he belonged there.


And for a fleeting moment, he felt too familiar.


They talked. He encouraged her to order another drink. And another. Soon, her words slurred and her cheeks flushed.


“I loooove this,” Sophia laughed, the martini glass wobbling in her hand.


The man gently took it from her. “Easy, young lady. You’re drunk.”


“I am not,” she argued, staggering to her feet.


He caught her by the waist, pulling her close.


Her voice trembled. “Are you… My betrothed husband?”


He smirked. “No. But I could be.”


And before she could think, his lips crushed against hers. Cold, intoxicating, tasting of vodka and danger. She melted into it, wrapping her arms around his neck, her body betraying her mind.
Until….


“Sophia???”


Her eyes flew open. Ava stood there, jaw dropped.


“What? You told me to have fun!” Sophia protested, voice small and desperate.


“You’re wasted! Ten minutes, Soph. Ten minutes and you’re already making out with a stranger?”


“I’m not drunk!” Sophia pouted.


Ava turned on the man, fury flashing in her eyes. “You took advantage of her?”


He raised a brow, unbothered. “She threw herself at me. What was I supposed to do? Turn down a free, sexy opportunity?”


Without hesitation, Ava’s fist collided with his mouth.

He staggered back, cursing, but didn’t retaliate.


“You’re lucky I don’t hit women,” he spat before storming off.


Sophia whined, collapsing to the floor. “Why did you scare him away? He was so hot!”


“Get up. We’re going home.” Ava hauled her up, but Sophia resisted, crawling.


“I dropped my husband’s picture somewhere!”


“You didn’t even bring it! It’s at home, in your cupboard!”


Before Ava could drag her out, Sophia’s phone rang. She fumbled it to her ear. “Mom!!! Hey Mom!!!” she shouted.


Ava panicked. “End the call, Soph. Give me the phone.”


“No! I’m at a bar, Mom! I’m looking for my…. hello? What? MOM!”


Ava slapped her forehead. “And we’re dead.”