My Bride

Adrian's POV

"The Victoria I know is perfectly pleasant." I said to her,

I felt her stiffen up against my arm immediately. Had I startled her that much?

But it was just a small contraction in the muscle beneath my hand, barely there. And it was gone so fast that if I hadn't been paying attention to her, I might have missed it.

She recovered quickly, turning her head toward me with a fake smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Nice to meet you too, my dear husband.”

Ouuu, so she did have fire. I like that. I'd take this version over the sad, defeated look she wore all day.

“All pleasure is mine.” 

Without another word, I offered my hand and we walked down the aisle together. Four hundred guests were on their feet, clapping and cheering, like this marriage was indeed lovely.

I would have spent this weekend on a solo trip in my penthouse at Colorado or played golf with potential clients or done something more meaningful with my time, yet here I was… playing husband with this strange woman—

“Ouch! Are you trying to break my fingers?”

I released her tiny hands immediately. 

“I didn't realise I was squeezing that much.”

She huffed in response.

Maybe it was the wedding that made her seem different. Or maybe I hadn't paid enough attention to really study her?

Victoria wasn't even smiling at the crowd, she just stood there looking over everyone, that bored expression back in place.

"You've been stiff as a board since the moment I saw you," I said, quiet enough that only she could hear it. "Through the whole ceremony. Through the vows. Through the ring."

"I'm getting married. To a stranger. Forgive me for not dancing down the aisle."

"You've known me for a while. I'm not a total stranger."

"Apparently not well enough."

We reached the doors. Photographers appeared on either side, flashes of light going off in rapid succession. Victoria's expression changed instantly and became photo ready, it was wide and warm and entirely convincing. I almost admired the transition. It happened so fast I would have believed it if I hadn't felt the tension still locked in her arm.

"So why the attitude," I said, once we were past the worst of the cameras. "All morning. At the altar. Now."

She glanced sideways at me. There was something sharp in her eyes, like she was amused.

"I was mirroring you," she said.

That stopped me for half a second. "Mirroring me."

"You looked like you were walking to your own funeral. I thought I'd match the energy." She lifted her chin slightly. "Seemed only fair, since we're apparently doing this together."

I looked at her for a long moment. She held my gaze, not backing down at all.

"That's new," I said.

"What is?"

"You. Saying something like that to me."

Something flickered across her face, but it was gone before I could properly decipher what it was. "Let's just get this wedding over and done with, Adrian."

"Exact same thing I want."

She didn't answer that. She gingerly marched toward the ballroom doors instead, where the reception was already in motion.

****

The reception moved by quickly. Toasts. Photographs. A best man's speech from someone I had hired. 

I watched her work the room beside me, shaking hands and accepting congratulations, while smiling at everyone. 

Then the band played slower music. My best man gave me a look that meant it was time, so I held out my hand.

"Dance with me," I said.

"Is that an order or a request?"

"Don't overthink it. We're just dancing for courtesy."

On the floor, her hand settled into mine and her other hand found my shoulder. For the first thirty seconds neither of us said anything. 

But she was a very terrible dancer.

In one minute, she had stepped on my shoes six times. I was getting pissed as fuck. “Have you never taken any dance lessons all your life?” 

She glared up at me with a hurt expression that swiftly morphed into annoyance.

"You're very annoying for a groom," she said.

"And you're more annoying for a bride."

We paused huffing at each other in anger.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” someone announced with a microphone, “...that's enough entertainment for one evening. The couple would like to retire now, they have a flight to catch.”

Then the song ended and the moment broke. She stepped back, smoothed her dress and looked anywhere but at me, which was fine because I never wanted to look at her too.

I walked out of the hall and she followed closely behind.

Richard Hale suddenly fell in stride beside us. “What was all that for? You're supposed to put up an appearance!” 

“Tell that to your insufferable daughter.”

He pinned a glare at her and she visibly shuddered under his gaze. That was very strange but I filed it away.

By the time we stepped out, the sky had gone dark and the photographers had multiplied, lining the path to the waiting car. 

I led her through them while holding her hand for the pictures. The crowd cheered as we passed, rice and flower petals were thrown into the air around us.

She climbed into the limousine first. I followed and the chauffeur closed the door, that dimmed the noise outside to a muffled roar.

The car pulled away from the curb, the cheering crowd shrinking behind the tinted glass. She finally let her shoulders drop. I watched her exhale like she'd been holding it for hours.

"Where are we going," she asked. "Nobody told me anything beyond the ceremony."

"The airport. We have a flight to Paris tonight."

She went very still. "Tonight?"

"That's generally how honeymoons work, isn't it?"

"Honeymoons?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kingsley. Our honeymoon.”

“Right. Of course." She looked out the window.

If she had any reaction to me addressing her as my wife, she didn't show it. Her hands had curled slightly in her lap and she remained very still.

A knot tied at the back of my neck. 

I had a feeling this marriage was going to be the most tasking event of my life.