BRIDE FOR A YEAR
A placeholder bride with a contract and an expiration date.
And yet… His cologne lingered in the hallways, clean, fresh, and expensive, every time I caught a whiff of it, it clung to my senses longer than it should have.
His voice, rich, deep, low when he muttered to himself, traveled through the vents sometimes. His laugh, rare but disarming, haunted my thoughts at night, especially that day at the office complex, when he handed me my own space and said, in that matter-of-fact way of his, that a billionaire’s wife should have nothing but the best.