THE HUSBAND BETWEEN US

I stared at the girl in the mirror. She stared back.

Dark-brown hair fell over my shoulders in loose waves. Hazel eyes. Freckles scattered across my nose.

My mother hated the freckles. I didn't.

I leaned closer to the mirror, tilting my head. What would happen if I changed something? My hair. My clothes. My face. Would my life change too?

“Alicia!”

My mother's voice cut through the silence.

I froze.

“Alicia, come downstairs. We have guests.”

Guests.

The word settled heavily in my stomach.

I glanced toward my bedroom door. “I'm coming,” I called.

No answer. I looked back at my reflection. For some reason, I couldn't move.

Then I exhaled, grabbed the edge of my dresser, and pushed myself away. I didn't know it yet, but that was the last night my life belonged entirely to me.

That was the night I met Justin Hayes.

The man I was supposed to marry.

I was only twenty-three years old—the only child of the Adams family and the sole heiress to everything my father had spent his entire life building.

From the outside, my life looked perfect. Money. Power. Beautiful homes. Private events. Expensive schools. People smiling at me because my last name opened doors.

But people rarely noticed the doors that were locked.

My father did. He locked most of them himself.

My entire life had been measured. What I wore. How I spoke. Who I smiled at. Who I spoke to. Where I went. When I came home.

I learned early that even the smallest mistake could become a conversation. A photograph. A rumor. A problem waiting on my father's desk.

For years, I thought he was protecting me because I was his daughter.

Then I grew older and I understood.

I wasn't being protected because I was Alicia. I was being preserved because I was an Adams.

My father had wanted a son. Someone to carry his name, inherit his empire, and continue everything he had built. Instead, he had me.

So he adjusted the plan. He made me valuable.

He sent me to the best schools. Taught me how to speak to powerful people.  He made sure my name remained clean. No scandals. No embarrassing photographs. No reckless mistakes. No headlines.

I wasn't raised like a daughter. I was raised like an investment.

And eventually, I would be handed to the right man. A man with the right family. The right name. The right connections.

Someone my father had already chosen.

Justin Hayes.

The problem was, I had never wanted him. I had never wanted any of this.

I didn't want a marriage built around shares and family names. I didn't want a husband who expected to know where I was every hour of the day. I didn't want to spend my life asking permission.

I wanted love. Real love. The kind nobody could arrange at a dinner table.

I wanted to choose the man I woke up beside. I wanted to make stupid decisions. Walk through a city without an escort following behind me. Laugh until my stomach hurt. Get lost. Make mistakes.

I was the daughter of Adams. And daughters like me didn't choose. They preserved.

*

I stepped into the hallway. The house was unusually quiet. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was the smell. My mother had brought out the expensive candles.

Great.

That meant the guests mattered.

I walked down the staircase slowly, my hand sliding along the railing. Voices drifted from the dining room. Men. My father's voice. Another man laughing. Then my mother's voice.

I reached the doorway.

And stopped.

My father looked up first. “There she is.”

Every head turned. My stomach tightened. My mother stood near the table, smiling. Beside her sat a man I didn't recognize. And beside him—Justin Hayes.

He stood when he saw me. Not very tall. But handsome. His dark hair was carefully styled, his suit fit perfectly against his shoulders, and even from where I stood, I could see the shine of his polished shoes.

Everything about him looked deliberate. Practiced. Perfect. He looked exactly like the son of a wealthy businessman should.

“Alicia,” my father said. “Come.”

I walked toward the table. Justin watched me—not in a way that made me uncomfortable, but almost cautiously. As if he wasn't sure what to expect from me either.

“Good evening,” he said.

“Good evening.” I pulled out the chair across from him and sat.

The silence lasted a little too long. My father cleared his throat. “This is Justin Hayes.”

“I figured.”

My mother shot me a look. I ignored her. Justin's mouth twitched. Was he trying not to laugh?

“It's nice to meet you,” he said.

“Is it?”

My father's eyes snapped toward me.

“Alicia.”

I picked up my glass. “Father?”

His jaw tightened. The room went silent.

Then Justin leaned back in his chair. I turned toward him. He held my gaze.

Something shifted inside me. I said nothing. Neither did he.

Then my father returned to his dinner as though nothing had happened, and everyone else followed.

The evening continued with expensive food, polite laughter, and conversations I wasn't included in. Politics. Investments. Business. The future of the Adams companies.

Then my father placed his fork down.

“This is your fiancé.”

The sound of cutlery stopped. For a second, I thought I had heard him wrong.

I slowly turned my head. Justin was staring at his plate. Then I looked at my father.

“My what?”

“Your fiancé.”

I laughed. One short, confused laugh. Nobody else did.

“You're joking.”

“No.”

I stared at him, then at Justin, then back at my father.

“We've spoken for less than five minutes.”

“You will have time to get acquainted.”

“That isn't the point.”

My father's expression changed slightly. But I knew him. That look meant stop. I didn't.

“You can't just sit me at a table with a stranger and tell me I'm marrying him.”

My mother reached for her glass. “Alicia—”

“No.”

I pushed my chair back. The sound scraped across the floor. Every eye followed me.

Justin looked up at me. I stared at him.

“Did you know about this?”

For the first time that evening, he looked uncomfortable.

“Yes.”

My stomach dropped.

“And?”

He looked toward his father. Then mine. Then lowered his head. He said nothing

I let out a bitter laugh.

 “Alicia,” my father warned.

I looked at him.

“No.”

His eyes narrowed.

I had spent my entire life obeying that look. Tonight, I didn't.

“You don't get to do this.”

The silence became unbearable.

My father slowly leaned back in his chair. “We will discuss this later.”

“No,” I said. “We're discussing it now.”

My mother's hand tightened around her napkin. My father looked at me for a long moment.

Then he smiled. And somehow, that was worse.

“This arrangement has already been discussed between both families.”

My throat tightened.

“Without me.”

“You are here now.”

“I wasn't asked.”

“You don't need to be asked about everything.”

The words landed harder than I expected.

Across the table, Justin looked away. I stared at my father. And for the first time in my life, I wondered whether he had ever truly seen me. Or if all he had ever seen— was the Adams name.

Dinner ended minutes later. I barely remembered the rest of it. I had spent most of it pushing food around my plate while our parents discussed a marriage I hadn't agreed to.

When the plates were finally cleared, my father and Mr. Hayes disappeared into the sitting room. My mother followed them.

Justin remained near the dining-room doorway. For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You don't seem very happy about this.”

I turned toward him. “At least you noticed.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. There wasn't much humor in it.

“I noticed.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “I suppose we're both expected to pretend this is normal.”

That made me pause. I studied him. Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with this as I thought.

“Our parents seem to think it makes sense,” he continued.

Our parents. Not us.

“Do you want this?” I asked.

Justin looked at me. His expression changed. For half a second, something flickered across his face.