Page 84 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
My chest rose and fell slowly.
I had survived worse than fear.
Worse than the endless darkness that had swallowed my sight and changed the course of my life forever.
But the thought of belonging to Rafael Perez—legally, physically, irrevocably—made something deep inside me twist.
Not because I wanted him. Not because I trusted him.
But because I didn’t.
“Be at the chapel tomorrow.”
His footsteps began to move away.
The sound sent panic racing through me.
“Sir.”
My voice came out small.
Desperate.
“Sir, please—”
I didn’t even know what I was asking for anymore.
Answers.
Mercy.
One more minute with Tess.
But he never responded.
His footsteps continued.
Then they disappeared beyond the doorway.
So did Tess.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
I stood alone in the office, hollowed out from the inside.
As though someone had reached into my chest and removed something vital.
Three weeks with Tess—three weeks of slowly becoming her friend, and something far closer to a mother than I ever expected to be.
And yet the absence she left behind in an instant felt enormous.
Like something had been torn out of my life without warning, leaving a hollow space that echoed with everything she used to be.
I sank back into the ergonomic chair, the leather creaking softly beneath me, too loud in the emptiness she left behind.
My hands trembled where they rested on my lap, fingers curling inward as if I could hold onto something that was already slipping away.
Selfishly, I wished I had never brought Zara to the office.
