“You just asked me to marry you, so I said yes. And by the way, it’s thorn to my rose, not rose to my thorns. Your dad always said you got your sayings wrong, and he was right.”
My jaw dropped as I realised what just happened. “He didn’t know how to do that” my ass, this was like “I don’t know how to fight”. He played me and he played me well.
“But you’re meant to ask me!”
“That’s a bit sexist.”
“No. You want to marry me so you ask me, not the other way around.”
“Ouch.”
“You know what I mean.”
Darius smiled with a shrug before turning to face me fully. “It’s okay, I accept. And remember to tell our children that it was you who asked me.”
Was he being serious? And with that, he turned around walking off, leaving me standing and staring at his retreating figure.
But I proposed to myself. Does that mean I would be marrying myself? I scoffed, turning around and closing the back door. Well, at least I would be married to someone awesome, me.
Closing the blinds, I slowly walked up the stairs, deep in thought. At least I know I would honour the “death do us part”. If I was married to myself, then I die when I die.
I nudged our door open to see the mess Adrian left. Nope, not dealing with that. Guest bedroom it was.
Darius, whom I did not propose to, can clean up after his cousin, whom he should marry.
I opened the guest bedroom, shutting the door and walking to the bedroom. I could have switched on the light but that would be a waste of electricity. But it would have saved my heart from nearly having a heart attack when something grabbed me and spun me around.
Before I could scream, I smelled the cologne.
“Marry me.”
“You’re not going to ask me, are you?”
“Marry me.”
“Not even one knee?”
“Marry me.”
“Fine.”
“Good, ‘cause then this would be a waste.”
I felt something cold slip onto my finger and looked down to see something shine. A girl can dream about a wedding or even a proposal, but I had my dream ring.
CHAPTER FIFTYTWO
12 months ago
There were many ways I could get my sorry arse out of here. I could jump straight through the window, or maybe I could literally get up and walk out of the church without anyone stopping me. But did I want to?
Yes, of course I did.
Did I have the courage to do that?
No.
It was partially due to the woman fixing my hair and making a fuss, the woman who gave birth to me and called herself my mother.
I glared at the mirror as she tightened the dress. Was I even meant to breath in this?
"I told you to watch what you eat. Now look at you. Too fat and this dress won't close."
I rolled my eyes, sighing. "I told you, starving me won't make me skinnier. It'll actually make a person gain weight."
I wasn’t even fat, was I? I stared at the mirror that was showing my reflection. Nope.
"You're not pregnant, are you?"
My eyes widened as I met her eyes in the mirror. "Mother! Of course not."
Trust her to think you were pregnant just because of water weight. She pulled on the dress tighter and muttered to herself.
"You shouldn't have ordered a dress two sizes too small, thinking I would lose that much weight. I have bones, you know? Bones don't shrink."
"Don't talk back. What is this!"
I grunted as she poked my neck and I looked over my shoulder. "That’s when your stupid stylist burnt me with her curler iron?"
"Stand still!" she scolded, finally pulling up the zipper of the most hideous wedding dress I had ever seen.
"I am still." It wasn't like I could move in this tight dress anyway. It has a sweetheart neckline with an embroidered bodice, which meant it kept pulling strands of my hair out. It had delicate lace straps and the bottom was like a ball gown, puffy. Well, the dress wasn't that bad, I guess.
Just really tight.
I watched as she placed my hair in a horrible bun, putting too many clips in. God, that looked terrible. Was I growing a pineapple tree on top of my head?
What was the point of curling my hair if you can’t even see it now?
She placed the veil on.
"I can't see."
"Good, then he can't see your face. That might make him change his mind."
Ouch.
I could barely make out what was in front of me in this thick veil. I reached forward and lifted it up. I could put it on when I got there. I had to walk without tripping over.
"I told you to do your eyebrows. What is this disaster?"
She came toward me with tweezers and I leaned back, or tried, but the dress was very restrictive.
"Your eyebrow woman did mine," I snapped as she grabbed my face, trying to pluck more out. God, did she even want me to have them or was she going to paint them on like in the stupid fairy tales?
"You remember our deal, yes?"
I gritted my teeth as I felt my poor eyebrows being plucked out. Damn it, they were thin enough already.
"If something goes wrong, you can say goodbye to your father."