MY FORBIDDEN HUSBAND.

ANASTASIA

I have not been able to get those words out of my head. 

HER FUTURE HUSBAND.

I didn't know how to react; I was overwhelmed and hiding, like I always do. 

I couldn't sleep. I wanted to stay with Dad, but Damien did his thing and told me to go home and get some sleep because tomorrow was a big day. He didn't voice the last part, but I figured it out on my own. 

But I couldn't just get some sleep, not even after I blasted Taylor Swift on my headphones and exhausted myself by stress dancing, not even when I swallowed three sleeping pills—or maybe five. I lost count somewhere. 

My mind was definitely shutting down. Usually, Dad makes me some herbal tea—with raspberry flavor—and reads me a story as if I'm a little girl. He puts me to sleep and stays by my side till I fall asleep. 

But Dad wasn't there last night. I could feel the loss of his presence in my bones, and maybe that was the reason I didn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what to do if something happened to him. What if death strikes him like it did Grandpa?

So I hurried here first thing this morning. I had to see him for myself and ensure the stupid machines were beeping that he's alive and didn't leave me. 

I fall to my knees beside the bed and hold his hand. It's scraped and appears lifeless like the rest of him. 

When I try to speak, a suffocating wave of emotions clogs my throat, making the words strangled, closed off. 

“Dad…you always say to tell you everything because you're my best friend, right? You're the only friend I trust enough to pour my heart out to without worrying that I'll be used down the line. You're the only one who won't judge me or make me feel like I'm different. Even if I'm very strange, I sometimes go under, try to find myself, and feel empty sometimes. Daddy, I feel that way again, empty. And unlike other times, I can't find a silver lining because you're not here. You're supposed to be the one to pull me from under, but you're not even conscious. You said I should take a deep breath and think about the root of the issue, because once that's solved, everything else will be as well.” 

“I think I found the root, Daddy. It's agreeing to marry Damien. I'm not supposed to do that, right? Even if it means protecting you and your legacy. I'm not supposed to be a leech, I'm not supposed to be a burden. I don't want Damien to baby me just because I'm your daughter.” 

I feel tears roll down my face to my lips and taste the saltiness in my mouth. 

“So, Daddy, please wake up. If you do, I won't have to feel shitty because I'm using him. I wouldn't have to feel like he's putting his life on hold because of me. I wont have to force him to do something he dislikes. I did that before, and he reacted badly to it. I don't think you noticed it, but he avoided me, plastering me to the background as if I never existed. And that hurts, but it's okay because I'm over him now. Well, I think. So please open your eyes and come back. Please don't let me be a burden, Daddy.” 

I drop my head to his hand as if that will make him move or acknowledge me. As if that will hasten the process of bringing him back. 

“Who said you're a burden?” 

My head whips up so fast. So fast that I'm a bit disoriented, and a sudden sound slips from my lips. 

It's him. 

The man I had a hopeless crush on for years before I destroyed it all on my birthday, and then got over him because my pride is a thing. 

I'm definitely over him. 

And yet, I can't help but notice how his muscular chest stretches his suit jacket or how his eyes darken with each second he watches me. 

“Get up.”

He's glaring at me with those darkened eyes that almost look black right now. 

“I said, get up from the floor, Anastasia.” This time, he doesn't wait for me to comply and grabs my elbow, hauling me to my feet. 

The place he's touching me burns and then tingles in rapid succession, and no amount of deep breathing drives it away. 

“Did you hear what I said?” 

“About what?” I totally wasn't listening because he was still touching me. 

“About how you're not a burden.” 

“I am.” I lower my head, staring at my white sneakers. “I know you're marrying me because you want to protect Dad’s assets, and that's okay, but it still makes me a burden. Because I'm not old enough to care of t——”

“Look at me.” 

I shake my head, swallowing after all the rambling I've done. 

“Look at me, Anastasia.” 

How can someone pack so much command in one single word? In the simple way he says my name? And is it creepy that I want him to keep talking to me in that tone? 

“Do you honestly believe I chose to do this just to be there for you or because I'm a knight in shining armor? I'm not, Anastasia. Far from it.” 

“Then what are you?” 

“Whatever the knights in shining armor fight. And that means there's not one noble, sacrificing bone in my body. The reason I'm marrying you isn't because I want to protect you or your father's legacy. I'm protecting my firm and my own legacy. So the fact that you feel like a burden is needless and unnecessary. We are using each other. Do you understand?” 

I processed everything he said, trying to comprehend and not let his voice affect me so much, which I was totally failing at. 

“Answer my question. Do you understand?” 

“Yeah.”

“Dont let your mind wander to places it shouldn't. The next time you have a doubt or a thought, you come to me and say it. You don't hide, and you sure as ruck don't turn off your phone.” 

“My battery died.” 

“Make sure it never does again. The next time I call, you pick up.” 

“You're not my keeper, Damien.” he pauses, and watches me intently with that savage gaze of his—that I now know why people are afraid to make eye contact with. By using a mere look, he can make a person doubt their life.

“Then what am I?”

“Huh?”

“If I'm not your keeper, then what am I?” 

My dad’s best friend. But I don't want to say that. 

“A friend?” I try. 

“I don't do friends.” 

“But you have Payton.” 

“Payton and I work together, and we are close in age. Do you fall into that category?”

Damn it, and him and Payton. 

“Do you, Anastasia?” 

“No, I don't. But age isn't a number, you know. Being younger doesn't mean I can't work or that he is friends with you. Those things can be changed.” 

“No, they can't.” 

“Yes, they can.” I plant my feet wide apart. 

“Let's say they can. That won't be happening in the near future. So what does it make me now?” 

“You.”

“Me?” 

“Yeah, just you. I don't need a category to stuff you into. You're just Damien.” 

“Thats not true, though, is it?” he motions at my smartwatch, and I stare at it, thinking maybe it melted by being in his presence. 

“What time is it?”

“Eleven, why?”

“Where were you supposed to be an hour ago, Anastasia?”

“Oh.” 

“Oh isn't a place. Where were you supposed to be?”

“City hall.” 

“Why?”

“To get married.” 

“And where you there?” 

“You know the answer to that.” 

“I need you to say it. Were you there?”

“No, but that's because I came here and forgot about time—”

“Stop.”

My insides jolt at the way that single word held so much authority. 

“Dont do that again.” 

“Do what again?”

“Blurt out excuses if there is no evidence and valid reasons behind it.” 

“I did have——” 

“Now, let's go. We are late.”!

The wedding ceremony. 

Ours. Mine and Damien’s. 

“Yeah, okay. Sure.” 

“Those are three words for the same thing.” 

“So?” My voice sounds squeaky and breathy. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“No! I can handle this.” 

“Okay,” he says it calmly, casually, like he believes my words wholeheartedly, even more than I do. 

“Okay. Let's go.” 

“You still didn't answer my question.” 

“What question?” 

“What am I to you?”

I held his gaze. There was only one role he was about to fill; he didn't have any other role in my life.

So I say the one thing that makes sense. 

“After today? My Husband.” 

The husband that I wasn't allowed to touch. 

The husband who was forbidden.