THE MONSTER’S FIANCÉE

Nora Dalton walked out of the hospital feeling drained after another long evening shift. Her feet ached from standing all day, and all she wanted was to get home, shower, and sleep. She hugged her bag closer as she walked down the quiet street, replaying the plans for her wedding in her head. In one week, she was supposed to walk down the aisle to marry Liam, the man she had spent two years believing was her future. Everything was ready. The dress, the hall, the invitations. Even her coworkers had thrown her a small pre-wedding surprise earlier in the day. She had laughed with them, happy and nervous, excited about the life she was about to start. She texted Liam that she was done with her shift and heading home, expecting his usual warm reply. Instead, her phone rang.

Seeing his name appear on the screen made her smile automatically. Nora answered the call without thinking. “Liam, hi. I was just thinking about—”

“We need to postpone the wedding,” he said, his voice cold, flat, and emotionless.

Nora stopped walking. For a moment, she felt nothing because her mind refused to process what she had just heard. Then the coldness in his voice hit her. Hard. “What… what did you say?”

“I’m postponing the wedding,” Liam repeated, sounding annoyed that he had to say it again. “I have a business trip. It’s important. I don’t have time for this.”

Her heartbeat slowed as if someone had squeezed it in their hands. “But… next weekend?” she whispered, shocked that the words even left her mouth. “Liam, the wedding is next weekend. Everyone is ready. My parents, the guests, everything is—”

“That’s not my problem,” he said, cutting her off. “I can’t lose this deal. You know how business works.”

Nora felt her hand go numb around the phone. Her throat tightened so much it hurt to breathe. “Liam… this is our wedding.”

“And I said we’ll postpone it. I don’t have time to explain. I’ll be at the restaurant. If you want to talk, come now.”

Before she could say another word, the call ended. Nora stared at her phone, trying to understand how someone who claimed to love her could talk like that. She felt the shock spreading from her chest to the rest of her body. Her fingers trembled, and she blinked rapidly, trying to stop tears she didn’t want to shed on the street. The wedding dress she had chosen with so much joy felt like a weight pressing on her chest. For a few seconds, she stood still, unable to move, unable to think, her world collapsing through one cold, careless phone call.

She finally forced herself to walk again, but her steps felt heavy. The street was quiet, the air cool against her face, but nothing around her seemed real. She kept hearing his tone, the way he said “I don’t have time for this” like she was a burden. She rubbed her forehead, trying to calm her breathing, telling herself she would get answers face-to-face. Maybe he was stressed. Maybe something else happened. She tried to convince herself, but the coldness in his voice had settled deep inside her.

As she continued walking, the quiet around her started to feel less peaceful and more unsettling. She heard footsteps behind her. Slow, steady, matching her pace. She turned quickly, expecting to see another pedestrian or someone heading home. But the street was empty. Only the dim lights and long shadows stretched across the sidewalk. She inhaled deeply and kept walking, trying to focus on reaching the restaurant and demanding answers from Liam. She had taken barely ten more steps when she heard the footsteps again. This time, they were closer. Nora turned again, her heart beating faster now, but there was still no one. A black car drove slowly past her, too slowly for her comfort, and the tinted window made her feel watched. She swallowed hard and walked faster.

Her pulse rose. Something was wrong. She felt someone behind her, a presence that made her skin crawl. She tried not to panic, but the instinct was too strong. She took another step, and the footsteps behind her matched her again. She was about to turn around when suddenly an arm wrapped around her waist, unyielding, pulling her backward.

Nora gasped, her breath catching in her throat as her back collided with a solid chest. Before she could scream or process anything, warm lips pressed against hers in a sudden, shocking kiss. Her body froze from pure disbelief. Her hands instinctively pushed against the stranger’s chest, her palms feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. Her heart pounded violently, and her mind went blank. She could feel his breath against her skin, the rush of adrenaline mixing with fear. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly, not painfully, but with desperation, as if he needed her presence in that exact moment.

Her shock was broken by a harsh voice shouting from afar. Nora’s eyes widened as two men came running down the street, checking alleyways and corners with quick, sharp movements. They weren’t ordinary people; she realized it instantly. They were armed. One of them held a gun low by his side as he scanned the area. The other whispered something like a code, tense and alert. Nora’s breath hitched as the man holding her pressed her closer into the shadows.

One of the men shouted, “Check the back! He’s around here!”

The other one stopped, looked around quickly, then said, “He’s not the target! Move!”

The two men sprinted past them, heading deeper into the street, unaware that the very person they were searching for was hiding behind Nora’s body. The stranger used her as a shield, hidden in plain sight. Nora felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he waited for the danger to pass. He didn’t release her immediately, and she felt his chest rising and falling unevenly against her back.

As soon as the men disappeared, she shoved him with all her strength, breaking free. Her breath was shaky, and her hands trembled with anger and fear. Without thinking, she slapped him hard across the face. “What is wrong with you?!” she cried out, her voice breaking.

The stranger didn’t react to the slap. He simply looked at her with dark, unreadable eyes. His face was calm, but there was something dangerous and distant about him. Something unsettling. She was about to walk away when she noticed the faint glimmer of something wet on his shirt. She looked closer and felt her stomach twist.

He was bleeding.

Not a small wound — a deep one.

Her shock shifted instantly into instinct. She was a nurse. A wounded person stood in front of her. And no matter how angry or scared she felt, she couldn’t ignore that.

“You’re hurt,” she said, her voice softer but still shaky.

He didn’t respond.

Her hands moved almost on their own. She pulled off her scarf and quickly pressed it against the bleeding area, tying it firmly to slow the blood loss. Her fingers brushed his skin briefly, and she felt the heat of his body mixing with the cool night air. He didn’t flinch or make a sound; he only watched her with an intense look she couldn’t read. She avoided his eyes as she focused on the wound, her breath uneven.

Once she finished tying the scarf, she stepped back. He looked down at the scarf, then at her. For a moment, there was a strange silence between them, heavy and confusing. He didn’t thank her. He didn’t speak at all. He simply turned away and walked into the darkness without looking back.

Nora stood frozen, staring after him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her lips still tingled from the unwanted kiss, her heart beat fast from fear and confusion, and her hands trembled from touching his blood.

She looked down and saw the red stain on her fingers.

A shiver ran through her.

She whispered into the silent street, “Who are you?”