Chapter 2 Marriage With Expiration Date

• Amelia woke up slowly, staring at the ceiling for a long moment before dragging herself out of bed. Her body felt heavy, like she hadn't slept at all. Honestly, she probably hadn't.
• The cold floor met her bare feet as she walked toward the mirror. The second she saw herself, she groaned softly. "God..."
• Her hair looked terrible. Eyes swollen. Face tired.
• She looked exactly how she felt. Miserable.
• Amelia tied her messy hair quickly before walking into the bathroom. The warm water from the shower relaxed her body a little, but it did nothing for the mess sitting heavily inside her chest.
• Marriage.
• Today.
• The word alone made her stomach twist.
• She brushed her teeth slowly while staring blankly at the sink, trying not to think too much, but it was impossible.
• Everything from last night kept replaying in her head.
• Her father's cold voice. The threats. Her mother's necklace in his hand.
• The realization that nobody in that house truly cared what happened to her.
• By the time she stepped out of the shower, steam filled the bathroom mirrors. Amelia wrapped a towel around herself and wiped the glass slowly.
• Her reflection stared back at her. And for a moment, all she saw was her mother.
• Same dark eyes. Same black above-the-shoulder hair. Same slender face. Same stubborn expression.
• Marion hated that. Sometimes Amelia wondered if that was part of the reason her father could barely look at her anymore.
• The thought hurt more than she liked admitting.
• She quietly applied lotion to her skin while humming under her breath just to fill the silence.
• Then suddenly, the doorknob twisted. Voices echoed outside immediately after.
• Amelia froze for a second. The little tune died in her throat instantly.
• A knock followed.
• "Amelia?" Marion's voice called from outside.
• Amelia inhaled slowly. "I'm awake."
• "Open the door."
• She walked over reluctantly and unlocked it.
• The moment the door opened, four women walked into the room carrying makeup boxes, curling irons, dresses and bags.
• Like this was some normal happy wedding morning. Her father stood behind them calmly with his hands tucked into his pockets. No guilt or remorse.
• "Start getting her ready," Luke said casually to the women. "The groom's family will arrive soon."
• Amelia's jaw tightened slightly. One of the women smiled awkwardly at her. "Good morning."
• Amelia forced a polite smile back because the poor woman clearly wasn't the problem.
• Her father finally looked at her properly. "I don't want problems today, Amelia."
• The calmness in his voice somehow made everything worse. She stared at him quietly. "I still can't believe you're doing this."
• For one tiny second, she hoped he would soften. Maybe explain. Maybe apologize. Maybe act like a father.
• But Luke only sighed impatiently. "We already talked about this."
• "No," Amelia corrected softly. "You threatened me. There's a difference."
• Marion rolled her eyes dramatically. "Here she goes again."
• Amelia ignored her. "You're really forcing me to marry someone I've never met because of Jolie?"
• "Watch your tone," Luke warned.
• "Why?" Amelia asked bitterly. "Truth suddenly hurts now?"
• Marion scoffed loudly. "You should actually be grateful. Girls would die for this opportunity."
• Amelia smiled humorlessly. "Then maybe you should've offered your daughter instead."
• Marion's face darkened instantly. "You little—"
• "Enough," Luke cut in sharply. Her father turned toward the women once more. "Do your jobs."
• Just like that, he walked out. Like none of this mattered. Marion followed after him but stopped by the door first. "Your stubbornness won't save you today."
• And then she left too.
• The silence that followed felt uncomfortable. The makeup artists exchanged awkward glances before one of them spoke carefully.
• "Should we start with your hair?"
• Amelia nodded once and sat down quietly.
• For the next few hours, she barely spoke. The women moved around her carefully, brushing through her hair, applying makeup softly against her skin, adjusting things every few minutes.
• Outside the room, the house had become noisy. Guests had started arriving already. Laughter echoed downstairs. Music played faintly from the garden.
• Everything sounded distant to Amelia. Like she wasn't fully there. At some point, one of the women smiled warmly at her reflection in the mirror.
• "You're very beautiful."
• Amelia smiled faintly. "Thank you."
• But the compliment only made her chest ache more. Because this wasn't how she imagined wearing a wedding dress would feel.
• There was no happiness. No excitement. Just pressure. Fear. And numbness.
• When the wedding dress was finally brought out, Amelia stared at it quietly.
• It was beautiful. Simple but elegant.
• The white dress hugged her figure perfectly, tiny diamond stones resting carefully around the chest area while the slit at the side gave it a classy look.
• One of the women helped zip the dress carefully before turning her toward the mirror.
• For a second, she couldn't breathe properly.
• She actually looked like a bride. Not some trapped girl being pushed into a life she never wanted.
• The woman behind her smiled brightly. "You look stunning."
• Amelia stared at herself for a long moment before whispering quietly—
• "I look trapped."
• ***
• Alexander stood silently in front of the mirror while adjusting the cuff of his black suit. His expression remained cold.Unreadable.
• Behind him, George and Liam sat talking casually, but Alexander barely listened.
• Marriage.
• The word irritated him more the longer he thought about it. Living under the same roof with one woman permanently sounded exhausting enough already.
• Now adding emotions and responsibilities into it?
• Worse.
• "This still feels crazy," George muttered from behind.
• Alexander ignored him.
• Then suddenly—
• "Damn."
• Alexander glanced sideways. George was staring at his laptop with widened eyes.
• "What?" Liam asked.
• George pointed dramatically at the screen. "Alex's bride is beautiful. Come take a look, Alex."
• Alexander rolled his eyes immediately. "I'm not interested."
• "Come and look first," George insisted.
• "I said I'm not—"
• "Scared you'll fall in love with the woman your father threw on your face?" George smirked teasingly.
• Alexander shot him a cold stare before finally walking over.
• George turned the laptop slightly toward him. A picture filled the screen. A girl standing somewhere that looked like a training ground.
• Dark hair tied back. Sharp eyes. No smile. But there was something stubborn in her expression. Something fierce underneath the calmness.
• Alexander frowned slightly.
• "She doesn't look soft," Liam admitted.
• "She looks dangerous," George added.
• Alexander snorted quietly.
• Good. At least she probably wouldn't cling to him like most women did.
• His phone rang suddenly. It was a call from Gary. Alexander answered immediately.
• "Don, I got her information."
• "Leave it in my office."
• "You sure you don't want me to—"
• "I said leave it." He ended the call immediately.
• His mood worsened the closer they got to the venue. His father kept texting him nonstop.
• Where are you?
• Don't be late.
• The bride's family already arrived.
• Annoying.
• By the time Alexander stepped into the church, he already wanted everything over with.
• Guests filled the hall. Music played softly. People whispered excitedly. He hated every second of it.
• He stood quietly at the altar. Moments later, she walked down the aisle in the arms of her father. Then, he saw her.
• Amelia Robertson.
• And strangely, she looked exactly like the picture.
• Beautiful.
• But distant. Like someone physically present but mentally somewhere else entirely. No excitement. No fake smile.
• Alexander studied her silently while standing beside her. She was a small and quiet. But definitely not weak.
• The priest started speaking, but Alexander barely listened until he finally turned toward Amelia.
• "Do you, Amelia Robertson, take Alexander Ron as your lawfully wedded husband? To love and cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
• Silence followed immediately. Alexander glanced sideways slightly. Amelia's fingers tightened around the bouquet in her hand.
• For one second, he genuinely thought she would refuse.
• Instead, she said: "I do."
• It came out really soft and emotionless. Almost forced. But enough to make her parents release visible sighs of relief from the front row.
• Alexander noticed that immediately.
• Interesting. Very interesting.
• Then the priest turned toward him. "Do you, Alexander Ron, take Amelia Robertson as your lawfully wedded wife? To love and cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
• Alexander's jaw tightened slightly. Till death? Unlikely.
• He stared ahead coldly before answering. "Yes. I do."
• Even though deep down, he already knew one thing clearly. This marriage had an expiration date.
• ____