“Even so,” Christian finally said, “thank you for doing this. Especially after what you heard.”
His sincere gratitude only deepened my confusion. Why was he being kind? Why wasn’t he reacting with the coldness I expected? It would be so much easier to hate him if he acted like the arrogant man who once claimed I wasn’t the kind of woman for him.
I wanted to say something sharp, something that would push him away, keep the emotional distance I so desperately needed. But Joseph’s words echoed in my mind. The stories of the abandoned boy, waiting for parents who never came. The adult who hid his wounds behind carefully built walls.
“We need to define the terms,” I said at last, choosing pragmatism. “If we’re going through with this, I want everything in writing.”
He nodded, looking down at his hands.
“I’ll have the documents prepared. We can arrange a simple ceremony for the weekend.”
“The simpler, the better,” I agreed.
The car finally slowed as it approached the mansion gates. The soft lights of the estate shone through the trees, creating a scene almost magical-painfully at odds with the ice that had settled between us.
As the driver maneuvered toward the grand entrance, I quickly typed a message to my sister.
[Hey, looks like you’ll get to see Highridge Valley next weekend. Save the date.]
Annabelle’s reply came almost instantly, as if she had been clutching her phone, waiting.
[SERIOUSLY??? What do you mean??? What’s this great honor for???]
I glanced at Christian, who stood waiting patiently for me to step out of the car, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and concern. I typed my reply, still hardly believing the words on the screen.
[Looks like I’m getting married.]
I closed the door to the guest room and collapsed onto the bed, physically and emotionally drained. I needed to talk to someone who would understand my situation, someone who knew me better than I knew myself. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number that was more familiar to me than my own.
“Zoey!” Annabelle’s voice exploded on the other end after just two rings. “What the hell is this insane message about marriage? Are you drunk? High? Kidnapped?”
I couldn’t help a tired smile, even in the middle of all the turmoil.
“None of the above. I’m perfectly sober and acting of my own free will.”
“So you’re marrying a man who, by your own admission, you don’t love?” My sister’s incredulous tone made me close my eyes for a moment.
“Exactly.”
“And you say I’m the confused one in this family.” I could practically see Annabelle rolling her eyes through the phone. “Zoey, you need to make up your mind. Either you love him and marry him, or you don’t love him and move on. Normal people don’t marry people they don’t love!”
I sighed, staring up at the ornate ceiling.
“Normal people also don’t get hired to pretend to be billionaires’ fiancées,” I shot back. “I think we passed the point of ‘normal’ a long time ago.”
“Fair.” She let out a laugh. “But still, marriage? Like, real marriage, with papers and everything?”
“Yes. Next weekend.”
For a rare moment, Annabelle was silent.
“Is there a very good reason for this madness?” she finally asked, her voice softer.
A lump formed in my throat.
“Christian helped me when I needed it most, Annie. He went with me to Alex’s wedding. He paid off Dad’s debt.” I swallowed hard. “Now it’s my turn to help him. And it’s not even really for him-it’s for his grandfather.”
“His grandfather?” Curiosity colored her voice.
“He’s sick, Annie. Serious heart condition.”
“Oh.” Another pause. “I’m sorry.”
“He needs surgery within the next six months. And the family has this bizarre tradition: Christian can only take control of the winery if he’s married.”
“So you’re going to marry him for six months, until he secures the winery and his grandfather recovers?” she summed up,
“Basically.”
“And after that?”
“We go our separate ways.”
Annabelle let out an exasperated noise.
“And you honestly think you’re going to last six months married to a man you clearly have feelings for without falling head over heels in love with him?”
“I don’t have feelings for him!” I protested-maybe a little too quickly.
“Of course not. That’s why you’re sacrificing half a year of your life to help him.”
“It’s for his grandfather!” I insisted.
“Keep repeating that, maybe you’ll convince yourself.”
I dragged a hand down my face, exasperated.
“But wait-you haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, have you?”
“Not yet. And how exactly am I supposed to break it? ‘Hey Mom, remember that guy you thought I was engaged to, then thought I broke up with, but actually I was never really dating him? Well, we’re getting married next weekend!’”
Annie’s laughter echoed through the phone.
“I’d pay good money to see Mom’s face! She’s going to have a meltdown of happiness. You know she adores Christian, right?”
“And Dad will start with the interrogation.”
“What are your intentions with my daughter?”” Annie mimicked our father’s deep, serious voice perfectly.
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” I confessed. “What if Dad finds out the debt was paid because of this crazy agreement?”
“Oh, I know. I also know Matthew is going to ask why it took you so long to say yes to the guy.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, even with all the anxiety knotting in my chest.
“You’re not helping, Annie.”
“I’m not trying to help. I’m making sure I have front row seats to this circus you call your life.”
The conversation went on for a few more minutes, Annie alternating between teasing me and asking genuinely concerned questions about my plans. By the time we hung up, it was already deep into the night, but sleep didn’t come easily. My mind was crowded with thoughts of what the next few days would bring.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.