Chapter 4- Happy married life?

YASMIN

The first thing I heard was a steady rhythmic beeping. I tried to pry my eyes open but the white walls and the bright light filtered through my eye lids causing my eyes to burn.

I coughed out, trying to clear my throat and then slowly opening my eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness.

When my eyes finally opened I looked around only to be welcomed by white walls, beeping machines and an IV drip taped to my arm.

Where was I?

I thought trying to sit up as pain shot up my ribs causing me to fall back on the pillow with a gasp.

Then it all came rushing back. The rain, Mark, the woman, the accident. Oh my God.

I groaned and closed my eyes just as the door burst open.

“Finally.”

My mother’s voice cut through the room like a blade, and I opened my eyes to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her face tight with barely contained fury.

“You’ve been unconscious for three days. Three days, Yasmin. Do you have any idea what you’ve put everyone through?”

I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a croak. “Mom—”

“You tried to kill yourself.” Her voice was sharp, accusing. “You tried to kill yourself because you didn’t want to marry Damien. Do you have any idea how selfish that is?”

“That’s not what happened.” I forced the words out, my throat burning. “It was an accident. I lost control of the car—”

“Don’t lie to me.” She cut me off, her eyes narrowing. “I raised you. I know exactly what kind of person you are.”

“Mom, that’s not true.” I tried to explain.

“I know you’ve always been heartless.” Her voice rose, and I could see the anger building behind her eyes. “I know you’ve always put yourself first and now, while your nephew is fighting for his life, you’re busy throwing your own away.”

“Mom, please—”

“While you were lying here playing the victim, Rosalie was praying for you. She was begging God to let you live and you—” She stopped, pointing a finger at me. “You were trying to escape. That’s all you’ve ever done. Escape.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. I was too exhausted to argue.

The door opened again and I looked up as Damien walked in with Rosalie right beside him, her hand wrapped around his arm as she leaned against him like she needed his support just to stand.

The sight of them together, so close and familiar, turned my stomach.

Just when I thought today couldn’t get worse.

Damien’s eyes swept over me, cold and unreadable, and my face heated with recognition. The man I swore to hate was standing in front of me, and I was supposed to somehow have his child.

Rosalie left his side and rushed to my bed, her face crumbling as she reached for my hands.

“Yasmin.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Oh, Yasmin, I was so scared. When Mom called and said you crashed your car, I thought I’d lost you.”

I pulled my hands back. “I’m fine. It was an accident.”

“An accident?” Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I thought you tried to kill yourself. Because of me and Noah. I thought you hated me that much.”

“Rosalie, I wasn’t trying—”

“If Noah dies, then maybe that’s just God’s will.” Her voice cracked, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I’ll accept it. I’ll have to.”

“Don’t say that.” I begged, and she cried harder.

“You don’t have to do this.” She squeezed my hands again, eyes pleading. “I’ll find another way. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t hate me. Please don’t blame me for this.”

“I don’t hate you.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t blame you.”

I looked at her, at those red-rimmed eyes and that trembling chin, and felt the familiar weight of guilt settle on my chest.

“Can you walk?” Damien’s voice cut through the room like ice. I looked up to see him standing at the foot of my bed, his expression unreadable.

“What?”

“Can you walk?” he repeated, flat and impatient. “Or do you need a wheelchair?”

I blinked, confused. “I—yes. I think I can walk.”

“Good.” He turned toward the door. “We’re leaving.”

I stared at him. “Leaving? I just woke up. I can’t—”

“We’ve already lost three days because of your accident.” He didn’t turn around. “Noah doesn’t have much time.”

“Damien—”

“The wedding is today.” His voice was calm and final, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

“Today? I can’t get married today. I’m in a hospital bed. I need time to recover—”

“You’ve had three days to recover.”

“I was unconscious!”

“And now you’re not.” He finally turned to look at me, his eyes cold and hard. “Get dressed. We leave in ten minutes.”

He walked out without waiting for a response.

“Why not just have the child?” The words burst out of me before I could stop them. “Why do we have to get married at all?”

He stopped at the door, hand on the frame.

“My family doesn’t have children born outside of marriage. That’s not negotiable.”

He walked out.

—

My mother threw a simple white dress onto the bed. It wasn’t a wedding gown, just something cheap and plain, the kind of thing you’d find at a dollar store.

“Change quickly.” Her voice was cold. “Stop wasting everyone’s time.” I nodded and changed with shaking hands.

When I walked out of the room, Damien was already halfway down the hallway, his long strides eating up the distance.

“Damien!” I called out. “Damien, wait!”

He didn’t slow down. I hurried after him, my legs weak and unsteady. “Would it kill you to wait for one second?”

He reached the car first and got in without opening my door. I yanked it open myself, climbed in, and slammed it shut. He started driving before I’d even buckled my seatbelt.

He drove fast, weaving through traffic with a cold efficiency that made my stomach lurch. I gripped the door handle, watching the buildings blur past.

“You know, a simple ‘I’m glad you’re alive’ would be nice.” He didn’t say anything.

I turned to look at him. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” His voice was flat. “I just don’t have anything to say.”

Unbelievable.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, turning to stare out the window. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

Without looking at me, he reached over and tossed a file onto my lap.

“Read it.”

I stared at the folder in my hands. “What is this?”

“The terms of our marriage.”

I opened it. A prenuptial agreement, marriage terms, our agreement to divorce once Noah recovered. No claim over his wealth, his companies, his assets.

My face burned. “Do you honestly think I’m after your money?”

“I prefer not to take chances.” His voice stayed calm, measured. “You’d be surprised what people do for the Delacroix name.”

My fist tightened around the documents.

“You don’t know anything about me.” I snapped, and he shrugged.

“I know enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at me, eyes cold. “I’ve heard enough about you to know caution isn’t unreasonable.”

The hell

“Let me out of this car.” I snapped and he drove faster.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m asking you to pull over.” I countered.

“We’re almost there.”

“Pull over, Damien.”

He didn’t answer and I reached for the door handle and pulled. It didn’t open. I pulled again, harder but it was locked.

“Stop trying to create unnecessary drama.” His voice was flat, utterly unconcerned. “We’re almost there.”

I sat back in my seat, hands shaking. I couldn’t believe any of this.

—

We arrived at a small courthouse. No flowers, no decorations, no guests. Just a lawyer, a registrar, and a stack of paperwork.

I signed my name on the dotted line. Damien signed his. The registrar announced we were legally married, and Damien stood immediately, adjusting his suit jacket.

“This was efficient.” He said it like he was commenting on traffic.

I stared at him. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“What else is there to say?”

“I don’t know.” My voice was shaking. “Ugh Fine.” I groaned as I stood up, grabbing my purse. “How am I supposed to get home?”

“Someone will drive you. I have—”

His phone rang, interrupting us. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted. He answered immediately.

“Hello?” A pause, then frantic words floated through the speaker.

“Mr. Delacroix… Rosalie just called.”

“She needs you.”

“It’s about Noah.”

Damien’s eyes flickered to me for just a second.

“I’ll be there. Stay calm.”

He hung up and turned to leave.

“Damien, what—”

“Not now.” He cut me off already walking away.

“Rosalie needs me.” He added not even looking back. I watched the courthouse doors swung shut behind him.

My brand-new husband had abandoned me less than a minute after we got married.

Around me, the staff quietly packed away the documents, pretending not to notice.

I didn’t even know how I was supposed to get home.

I laughed but it came out sounding suspiciously like a sob.