#1

I accompanied my fiance to try on her gown, with our wedding set for tomorrow.

“Is it beautiful?” she asked as she turned, the fabric swirling around her.

“Yes,” was my short reply, though it felt like a lie.

She was certainly beautiful, yet my heart remained untouched.

I had only come along because my mother insisted; without her push, I would have willingly stayed away.

I released a deep sigh and shifted my gaze to my phone, distractedly chatting with a friend. He had invited me to his club, suggesting we celebrate my last night of being single.

I found myself agreeing, craving a brief escape from the suffocating expectations of my parents. Just for one night, I could indulge without remorse.

“I’ll just get dressed,” Faye said, bringing my focus back to her.

I nodded, noting the way her expression soured at my apparent indifference.

From the beginning, I had made it clear to Faye that our marriage was merely a familial obligation. Initially, she seemed to accept this, but throughout our preparations, I sensed a shift in her demeanor. Her glances lingered longer, the tenderness in her eyes suggesting something deeper.

“I’ll take you home so you can rest for tomorrow,” I offered as we stepped out of the bridal shop.

“Uhm, how about we eat first?”

The playfulness in her tone, along with her hand gripping my arm, twinged at something within me.

“I still have work to do,” I replied, declining her invitation firmly.

“Okay,” Her response was simply, accompanied by a frown that spoke volumes.

The silence hung heavy, stretching the distance between us as I drove her to her penthouse.

Once I dropped her off, I headed to my friend's club. It was past six in the evening, and the atmosphere buzzed with life and laughter.

Jacob greeted me with a smile, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“Let’s dance! It’s your last night as a single guy!” he exclaimed, urging me onward. “What about sleeping with another girl? Interested?” he joked, laughter in his voice.

“I don’t plan on sleeping with anyone; I just want to get wasted,” I replied, feeling a weight lift as we began to drink.

One bottle turned into many, and soon enough, I was lost in the revelry, drowned in the haze of alcohol.

......

As the night progressed, my vision blurred from the drunkenness, but it didn’t stop me from noticing a man who had been watching me since my arrival.

His gaze was intense, cutting through the crowd as if I were the only person that mattered. Feeling bold from the alcohol, I could no longer bear his stare and decided to confront him.

I rose from my seat and walked over, pausing right in front of him. As he looked up, his eyes sparkled amidst the flashing lights in the club, making it challenging to decipher the thoughts swirling behind his penetrating gaze.

“You want some fun?” I asked, the words bubbling up with reckless abandon.

He remained silent, his eyes fixated on mine, unblinking. When he didn't respond, a surge of audacity coursed through me.

Without a second thought, I leaned down, driven by the alcohol coursing through my veins, acting on an impulse that I usually would have never considered.

To my surprise, instead of pushing me away, he responded to my kiss, igniting a thrilling surge throughout my entire being.

As I swallowed, my lips parted, and I felt his tongue invade my mouth. His actions sent a strange thrill spreading throughout my body.

It was the first time I had ever done something like this, and kissing a man was beyond my usual limits. However, under the influence of alcohol, those thoughts faded away.

I met his fiery kiss with equal fervor. Moments later, I found myself in a room with him, where he continued to kiss me passionately. I no longer resisted. He was like a wild beast, kissing me hungrily as if there were no tomorrow.

To my astonishment, I allowed him to take control, surrendering in a way I never imagined I would. The intoxication enveloped my mind in darkness, leading me to follow his every move and caress.

In that moment, a thought echoed in my mind: this would only happen once, and it would never repeat. I reassured myself that I wouldn’t see him again, and with that acceptance, I let go.

......

The next morning, I awakened to an emptiness; the man from the night before was gone. My entire body ached as if I had engaged in a fierce battle and could hardly move.

Yet, despite the pain, I forced myself to rise from bed and prepare. Ignoring my discomfort, I cleaned myself up before heading to my penthouse.

Upon arriving home, I hurriedly dressed, conscious that I couldn't afford to be late for my wedding. My parents would surely be upset if I arrived even a minute behind schedule. With every movement rushed, I made my way to the wedding reception, eager to wait for my bride’s arrival.

As moments passed, Faye finally appeared.

My heart raced at the sight of her, but it sank when I noticed the man accompanying her. An overwhelming wave of nervousness struck me; the man with my bride was the very same one I had been with the night before.

"Angelo, I'm here," Faye announced as they approached, her hand linked with his. "This is my uncle Clark. Uncle, this is my groom, Angelo," she introduced us.

I swallowed hard, particularly alarmed by the confident smile that graced his lips.

"Nice to meet you, my nephew-in-law," he said, extending his hand toward me.

I hesitated for a moment, my palms clenched tight, unwilling to engage yet aware of the expectations around me.

Reluctantly, I knew I had to uphold decorum in front of our gathered guests, especially with my parents watching. I loosened my grip, raised my hand, and reluctantly accepted his handshake.

The moment our hands connected, I flinched at his firm grip and quickly withdrew my hand, overwhelmed by the unexpected intensity of the encounter.