Till Debt Do Us Part

GENESIS

I stood in the court, in disbelief. I was marrying someone I didn’t know, a man who clearly didn’t want to marry me. I knew it for sure. First, he was late to the court wedding. Second, his eyes never looked at me with warmth. His gaze wasn’t full of hate, but it wasn’t tender either. It was more like he was inspecting me, sizing me up, with no real interest. There was no hunger in his eyes like there was with Jimmy. Instead, when he looked at me, it felt like disappointment, as if I wasn’t what he had expected.

Well, we were both in the same boat. This wasn’t what I had expected either. When Monica had called me downstairs last night, I thought I was in trouble. I thought I had done something horribly wrong. But no, instead, she told me I was getting married. Then came the yelling, the slaps, and the broken objects flying through the air.

“How dare he? How dare he think he can just waltz back into your life?” Monica screamed at me, throwing things as she went on. Who was this “he”? I didn’t know.

And now, here I was, the very next day, lawfully wedding a man I barely knew. A giant of a man, taller than my stepbrothers. When he came near me, it felt like I might throw up, though I hadn’t eaten a thing. He seemed like he could crush me with just one hand.

Then the ceremony was over, the words spoken, but nothing had changed. My new life had started, but I couldn’t feel anything. There was no happiness, no relief, only this hollow emptiness gnawing at me. I couldn't move, frozen in place in fear.

While Monica stood off to the side, her face twisted in anger. She looked at me like I was the cause of all her frustrations. Jimmy and Mark, my two stepbrothers, flanked her, their expressions equally sour.

I could feel their eyes on me, burning with judgment, especially Monica’s. She had always looked at me like I was something to be controlled, something to be molded. And now… now I was married, bound to a man I didn’t know, a man who barely spared me a glance. It was all too much.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat too loud in the suffocating silence. The familiar tightness in my throat felt like a vice, squeezing the breath from me, and I wondered if I'd collapse from the weight of everything that had happened so fast.

Kier’s father, Donald, stood near the back of the room. His face was hard to read at first, but then I noticed it: the slight guilt in his eyes as he looked at me. His gaze softened for a brief moment, almost imperceptible, and then he offered me a small, almost apologetic smile.

I froze. His face brought back memories of my father, his old friend. It had been years since I last saw him, since my father’s death. He had always been kind to me back then, a warm, comforting presence whenever my father had business to attend to. But now, seeing him here, watching me in silence as I stood with his son, it felt like time had warped everything. I didn’t know how to feel. Was he smiling because he was happy for the marriage? Or was it a sad smile, one of regret for the situation I had been thrown into?

Kier didn’t look at me again. He stood beside me, and when the ceremony was over, he turned his back and started walking toward the exit.

I followed him like a shadow, unsure of where I was supposed to go, unsure of what was expected of me. My steps were slow, tentative, but there was nowhere else to go. I had no choice but to follow him.

We reached the parking lot, and I saw the black car parked nearby, his car, I assumed. He didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge me as I got closer. His hand reached for the door handle without a second glance, and he opened it for me. The coldness of his gesture made me pause. But there was no alternative. No one was going to tell me what to do now.

I climbed into the passenger seat, trying not to tremble. As the door clicked shut, the reality of my situation settled in. I was alone with a man I barely knew, and the future seemed as empty as the silence that stretched between us.

As we drove, the tension in the air was palpable, my body stiff, my hands trembling in my lap. I could see the way his hand clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel, his jaw tight. The silence between us felt heavy, suffocating, like the air had thickened with all the unspoken things we both felt.

Then, to my shock, he raised one of his hands off the steering wheel. My instincts kicked in, and I hunched over, shielding myself with my hand, expecting a blow.

“Yo, what the hell, I'm not going to touch you,” he said, his voice firm but edged with disbelief. I didn’t lower my guard, keeping my eyes squeezed shut. My heart raced in my chest, my breaths coming out in ragged bursts. But I peered out from under my arm, and that’s when I noticed that he had parked the car, which only made my heart rate spike further.

“Breathe. I'm not going to hurt you, so relax,” he added, his voice softer now, though his narrowed eyes still regarded me with an unreadable expression.

I slowly lowered my hand from my head, still tense, my body coiled with fear. But I unfolded myself from my defensive crouch, trying to regain some composure.

“Good,” he muttered, glancing out the window. But he didn’t start the car right away. Instead, he sighed, his fingers tapping on the wheel in frustration.

“I don’t know if this whole marriage is as much of a surprise to you as it is to me,” he started, his gaze briefly flicking to me. I remained silent, unsure of where this was going. I was still too caught in the shock of everything.

“But I need you to know that it’s not going to last. We’re just going to try and give my father his heir, and then we’ll go our separate ways,” he said, his brows raised slightly as if to gauge my reaction. I nodded quickly, eager to agree with anything that would make this nightmare end sooner.

So that meant he wanted out as soon as possible. That was good. It was really good. I just needed to stay with him for a year, then I’d get my inheritance from Monica when I turned twenty-four, and I’d find my way.

“So you understand this is not a real marriage, I don't know you, you are not even my…..” he continued, but then his words faltered, and he stopped himself with a sigh.

“Shit, getting this heir is going to be harder than I thought,” he muttered to himself. His frustration was palpable, and I could feel my cheeks flame with embarrassment. My eyes dropped to my body, I was thin, really thin, and malnourished looking. My hair was long but dull, nothing like the beautiful women I imagined he was used to.

If I were him, I thought bitterly, I wouldn’t want me either.

To make it easier for him, I figured I could always ask him to turn off the lights anytime he wanted to do what he had to do. Maybe that would make it easier for both of us.