Her Thoughts.

Sera's POV

The door clicked shut and the performance dropped off me instantly. God, talking to Adrian, ‘my beloved husband’ was exhausting.

And what were all those rules?

Separate rooms, like I ever wanted to lie down with him, No skipping meals in my house, no spending your dad's money, and no falling in love with me.

Adrian must be a clown to even think himself my type. So, so arrogant. Embodiment of everything I hated in a man.

I stood there in the middle of my room for a second. Even my jaw ached from smiling sheepishly for hours. A great wedding day indeed.

I peeled off my shoes and dropped them by the door, drawing in a heavy sigh of relief. I rubbed the sole of my feet in small circular motions.

My entire body ached everywhere. Honestly, I needed a full body massage.

I was beginning to feel my migraine coming in full force as I rubbed my temples.

I, Victoria Kingsley, Richard Hale’s daughter. Wife of CEO Adrian Kingsley.

It was so funny I threw my head back laughing.

Laughing at how absurd my new identity is, laughing at the unfairness of life, laughing at my poor miserable situation.

My purse sat on the dresser where I'd dropped it. I knew the letter was still folded inside. And I needed to read it properly now I finally had the chance to, without Adrian hovering all over me.

I sat on the edge of the bed and unfolded it. It was handwritten. There was no greeting and no name at the top.

'Getting married won't give you the peace you think you deserve, Sera. If I were you, I wouldn't have agreed to that marriage. But I guess you never know where your next meal comes from? Whatever. Watch your back, Seraphina.'

Seraphina.

These words were addressed to me. Me as in Seraphina, not Victoria Hale. Whoever sent this letter knew the real me. For them to find me on my honeymoon, where I was supposed to be celebrating with my husband, and made sure I got this?

They probably knew I was the fake bride too.

I read it three more times. You never know where your next meal come from—what did that even mean?

I folded the note and kept it back inside my purse.

Then I changed out of my dress slowly, and pulled on the simplest thing I could find in the wardrobe. Just a soft oversized shirt, I didn't bother with pants.

I sat back on the edge of the bed, reached for my phone and dialed. It rang four times before she finally picked.

“Seraphina.”

Martha’s voice was rough with sleep but warm underneath. The soothing sound of it immediately loosened the knots in my chest.

“Heyyy,” I responded. “Did I wake you?”

“It's past midnight, baby. Where are you?”

“Paris.”

She paused. “Paris?”

“Yeah, there made arrangements for a honeymoon apparently. Nobody told me until we were in the car.”

“Oh my God, baby, that must have felt so sudden. Are you alright?”

Am I alright? Definitely not. Do I want to dump my babbage on Martha right now? No either.

So I asked instead, “how's the facility, Martha? Are they treating you well? Do you have everything you need?”

“Seraphina.”

“Martha, I just need to know you're fine, okay? The specialist they assigned, has he been thorough? Because if anyone has been dismissive with you even for a second I need you to tell me and I'll—”

“The care here is very good, Seraphina. Stop deflecting. I'm fine. Now, are you?”

I pressed my lips together.

“Seraphina Hale.” Her voice was soft but firm. “Talk to me.”

“I'm fine.”

“You called me at midnight from Paris on your wedding night. You're not fine.”

I looked at the Eiffel Tower through the window. It was still glittering. Completely indifferent to me.

“He's…” I started to say, then stopped.

“Who are you talking about? Your husband?”

“Yes, Martha. He's weird, he's arrogant, he's rude, he's…he's a lot.” Can you imagine he gave me ‘marriage rules’? A whole list of them. He sat me down and recited them like we were in some board meeting.”

Martha laughed quietly at my rant.

“What's funny?” I asked, even though her laughter was really contagious. I laughed with her too.

“He's not…what I expected. If I'm honest, I didn't even know what I was expecting.”

“Oh, my poor baby.”

“He's difficult, Martha. He's cold and he notices everything. Everything.” I emphasized. “He's been watching me all day like he's trying to figure something out.”

She sucked in a breath. “Does he suspect?”

“I don't know.” I pulled my knees to my chest. “Maybe. Probably. I don't know.”

I'd filled Martha in on everything I did to secure us a new life. Although she didn't like it, she understood. We had no other options. If anything, Richard was my biological dad. I wasn't going to live with him anyway.

“And the family?”

“Richard was exactly what you'd expect him to be. I have really met any other person.”

Martha was quiet for a moment. “Come home the moment this is done. You hear me? Three years and you come straight home.”

“Three years,” I agreed.

“You did a brave thing, baby.” She said quietly.

My throat tightened.

“I know I've never said this to you, but I really appreciate you. And I'm super, super proud of you. You're the bravest person I know.”

“It wasn't bravery,” I whispered quietly. “I was just in a tight spot with nowhere else to turn to.”

“Sometimes, bravery and choosing the only available option are the same thing. You could have easily run away. Leave me be and find a life of your own away from all this case.”

I sighed. “I'm not sick of your ass yet, Martha and until then, nothing you can do can push me away.”

She chuckled at that. It was a sweet sound to my ears.

“You should sleep, baby. It's late and you've had a long day.”

“I know.”

“And eat something. I'm not around to keep reminding you everyday. You need to take care of yourself.”

Despite everything, I almost smiled. “Adrian said the same thing.”

“Hmm, he noticed that already? That's good. He's exactly who fits your stubborness.”

“Martha,” I called in a warning tone. “Don't let him hear you say that, he's insufferable enough already.”

She laughed, again. I was so happy I could make her laugh even just over the phone. Even with everything going on.

“Goodnight, my love,” she said.

“Goodnight Ma'am. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” She replied.

I held the phone in both hands for a long moment after she hung up, staring at the dark screen.

The room felt larger now. The ceiling further away. Paris still shimmered beyond the glass, completely unmoved.

I thought about the note on the nightstand I deliberately didn't mention to her.

I thought about Richard standing in my doorway that afternoon telling me I had forty eight hours.

I thought about walking down that aisle this morning,

pretending to be a woman I had never met, while people applauded like it was the happiest day of my life.

I thought about being alone in a Paris hotel suite on the other side of the world, with a husband who had already given me a formal list of reasons not to exist in his space.

The first tear surprised me.