Was it reprehensible to marry someone you didn't love?
And someone you barely knew?
Someone completely unknown to you?
There was nothing ordinary about this. Nothing at all. Steph tried to convince herself it was simple, practical, even necessary—but every instinct in her screamed otherwise.
And yet, it was happening. Two strangers, bound by circumstance, about to be wed.
"Will you be my wife, Stephanie Anderson?" His voice was steady, controlled, and impossibly calm. At first, she thought it was a joke, but the man on one knee, that sly, unyielding smirk on his face, told her otherwise. Love had no place here. Neither did sentiment.
She would marry him. He would be her husband. And yet… he would not.
This is madness. Her heart hammered in her chest. One could only imagine the heartbreak waiting at the end of this.
It's just a contract. A seal, nothing more. She swallowed the lump in her throat, lifted her chin, and forced a smile. "I will."