Chapter 3

DORRY

Wearing a pink wig, a white maxi dress, and my favorite stilettos, I walked into the old municipal hall like I owned the world. My smile was wide. My chin held high.

If today were the day I’d lose my freedom, then fine. But I’d go down with style.

I wanted to savor these last few minutes as a single woman, the last few breaths of independence before I said goodbye to my name, my status, and my choices.

The second I met Mr. Purple Tie, this chapter of my life would slam shut.

Even if this was just an arranged marriage, even if it was purely for formality, I knew deep down this would change everything: my life, my routine, and my peace.

I didn’t know the man I was marrying—not his personality, not his quirks, not even his face.

But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t leave an impression.

That’s why I chose this dress. That’s why I picked this shade of lipstick. That’s why I wore these stilettos that threatened to snap my ankles.

I wanted to look beautiful, confident, and unforgettable.

Let him think I was shallow. Let him assume I was just a spoiled brat from a wealthy family. Let him judge.

I didn’t care.

At least when he met me, I’d own the moment.

But all of that—my plans, my confidence, my rehearsed smiles—crumbled the second I saw him.

I froze mid-step.

My heels nearly betrayed me.

“Sh*t,” I whispered. The word slipped out without permission. Then I repeated it, again and again, like a broken record playing in my head.

No.

No way.

This couldn’t be happening.

I blinked hard. Rubbed my eyes with both hands. Blinked again. He didn’t disappear.

He stood there, a few steps away, tall and still, wearing a purple necktie. I wanted to rip his throat out.

His eyes were closed, but the second he exhaled sharply and raked his fingers through his hair, I knew.

It was real.

He was real.

Nelson.

The last man on earth—I don’t want to see him again.

I stood there, speechless. My stomach twisted. My brain refused to process what I was seeing.

“You!“ We shouted at the same time the moment our eyes locked.

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. My jaw dropped. My lungs forgot how to work.

Forget about looking good. Forget about making a good impression. Forget about everything I planned.

I didn’t care how I looked. I didn’t care if my makeup smudged or if my lipstick bled.

All I cared about was how unfair, ridiculous, and downright cruel this situation was.

Of all the men in the world… why him?

It felt like lightning had struck me twice. Then a bus ran over me for good measure.

I could tell by the way his expression soured that he felt the same.

His glare went straight to my pink wig like it offended his existence. Who could blame him?

We had a history, not one with labels, not one we ever talked about, but it existed. Like a scar, both of us kept pretending it wasn’t there.

I kept staring. My mind ran in circles… old arguments, old memories, old wounds.

And while my brain screamed for answers, my eyes betrayed me. They started scanning him from head to toe.

He had changed.

He didn’t look like the Nelson I used to know, not the sweaty, shirtless lunatic running around the island like some wild dog, not the pervert who cracked dirty jokes every five minutes.

Now he looked polished and serious, like some successful businessman ready to close a million-dollar deal.

But I knew better.

Deep down, he was still the same annoying, stubborn, ego-driven man.

Part of me wanted to stomp toward him and tighten that purple tie until he begged for air.

The fact that he stood there acting all cool and composed only fueled my irritation.

His stare said it all, like he was judging me, like he was better than me.

My blood boiled.

“Are we really going to go through with this?” he asked, dragging me out of my spiral.

I blinked.

I wanted to scream, “No!”

I wanted to turn around, run out the door, and catch the first flight back to anywhere but here.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

I had my reasons for agreeing to this mess, reasons bigger than him, bigger than my pride, reasons that kept me awake at night.

So I stayed quiet.

“Okay then… let’s do this,” he said with a smirk that made me want to throw my stiletto at his face.

I glared at him. My stare was sharp enough to cut glass.

But of course, it didn’t even faze him.

If anything, he looked amused, like this was all some twisted game.

Before I could snap back, he turned toward the mayor and did the unthinkable.

“Mayor, we’re ready,” he announced, loud and clear.

And he wrapped his arm around my waist.

My mouth dropped open.

What the hell?

I froze on the spot, too stunned to even push him away.

He pulled me close, as if we were a lovestruck couple. His hand casually settled on my side, warm, heavy, and unwanted.

I barely recovered from the shock when I felt his fingers moving, squeezing, and caressing.

That jerk!

My eyes widened. I glanced down at his hand, then shot him the deadliest glare I could manage.

Without hesitation, I pinched him hard.

I twisted the skin between my fingers like I was unscrewing a stubborn bottle cap.

He stiffened. Bit his lower lip. His eyes narrowed at me.

I smirked, proud of myself.

But of course, he had to retaliate.

He leaned closer—too close. His lips brushed my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

“Make sure you won’t regret tying yourself with me,” he whispered.

I stopped breathing.

My throat tightened. My eyes widened.

The nerve of this man.

I turned my head sharply, fully intending to snap at him, but he pulled back just in time, smirking like the devil himself.

If it weren’t for the mayor and the secretary, our supposed witnesses, I would have smacked him right there.

Instead, I inhaled deeply, plastered on the fakest smile I could muster, and locked eyes with him in a silent war.

My heart pounded. My cheeks burned. My fists curled.

His words echoed inside me like poison.

Regret.

The way he said it, like a warning, like a promise that if I thought this marriage would be easy, I was dead wrong.

What if I did regret this? What if this became the biggest mistake of my life?

I clenched my jaw.

No.

I wouldn’t let him win.

I wouldn’t let him see me break.

With every ounce of strength, I met his stare again, pushed him slightly away, and flashed him a sweet, almost flirtatious smile that made him blink.

“You talk too much, Nelson. Worse than a woman,” I hissed, low enough for only him to hear.

His eyes widened, caught off guard, but that stupid smirk returned fast.

“And what if I do regret this, Nelson? So what? I’m human. I make mistakes. But don’t worry about me. Focus on yourself.”

I leaned in just enough to watch his cocky grin falter.

“Because maybe,” I continued, tilting my head with a smirk of my own, “you’ll be the one who ends up regretting this. Not me.”

For the first time since we reunited, he didn’t have a comeback.

He just stared as I took a step forward and waited for the mayor to begin.

Game on…