If we got married?

Fake love



“Let’s break up.”

“What? What are you talking about, Jeremy...?” I snapped, adjusting my clothes after we had just given in to passion.

“It’s my parents. They hate seeing you work in the kitchen. They say it doesn’t look good for our family. And I’m tired of their nagging every day. It’s best if we end this.”

“How can you say that to me now? We just had s*x in a filthy storage room"all because you wanted to! Huh!? How can you be so shameless?”

“I told you many times that it bothered me. And to be honest, sometimes I feel a little embarrassed introducing you to my friends... when you’re serving them canapés.” Those words felt like a painful stab in my back that almost knocked the air out of me.

“You... you’re the one who got the most out of my job, going on all those trips and parties, and now I’m the one you’re ashamed of? You’re such a selfish b*st*rd!” I pushed him over and over again as the mansion’s fountain roared behind us.

“How can you call me selfish when I’ve always looked out for our relationship! I asked you, just for today, not to serve greasy, smelly food at my cousin’s wedding and you didn’t care at all!”

“It’s my livelihood! What do you want me to do? Quit it for you?”

“See? Our social status is always in the way… you can’t even do something that simple for me.”

“So that’s what this is all about… the d*mn money, the status!” My eyes welled up with tears, and with fury I grabbed his shirt.

“If money’s all you care about and our relationship means so little to you… then pay me back the d*mn phone bills I covered, my car that you took, and the thousands of dinners I paid for because you said you’d pay me back when your dad unblocked your card!”

“W-what? What are you talking about… You’re crazy! Why are you throwing this in my face now? Don’t you think that’s really low?”

“You do owe me! I’m almost in the red because of you—and I wouldn’t have cared about any of that if our love had actually been real.” I looked at him, on the verge of breaking down, when suddenly he snapped.

“Enough, let go of me, paranoid freak!” He shoved me hard, causing me to fall to the ground, my hands taking the full brunt of the impact.

“Ouch!” I looked at my trembling hands, scraped and bloody, covered in grime from the rocky garden pavement. I looked up at the man I once thought would be the perfect partner for life.

“Remember who paid for your stupid catering company you wanted so badly, my family! So technically, you owe them the life you have now.”

“I never asked you for anything! You gave it to me for my first birthday together—how can you throw that in my face now?” I screamed, my voice cracking with pain.

“I don’t owe you anything, so don’t go around telling people I’m some kind of deadbeat… or I’ll know it was you. Got it?” He straightened his shirt and, looking nervously around, walked back toward the reception hall. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, trying to get up while sobbing in pain.

What was I going to do...? How could I have been so stupid? Paolo warned me so many times not to let him walk all over me, paying for everything he ever made me spend… but I never imagined he’d be so vile. How was I supposed to pay off all my debts now? I wiped my tears as best I could and headed toward the hall I had to finish my shift. After all, I no longer needed to attend the wedding as a guest.

As I opened the door, lost in my thoughts, I bumped straight into someone. I instinctively touched my nose, nearly falling again. He grabbed my arm quickly, spinning us around as he held my waist firmly.

“Careful!” he said firmly. Dazed by what had just happened, I looked up, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw who it was.

“Ismael...” I murmured without meaning to, his name just slipped from my lips. He looked puzzled and asked.

“Do we know each other?” Of course, we did. He was my first love and the man getting married today.

*

‘Do we know each other?’ That he didn’t remember was proof that, for him, my existence went unnoticed in his life, and he had simply forgotten me. We were always on different wavelengths.

‘What? Um... I think... not.’

‘You think?’ he inquired, raising his bushy eyebrow. ‘But you just said my name very casually.’

‘Because you’re the groom, right?’ I let out a bitter laugh and pointed.

‘Yes, I guess you’re right... the jilted groom,’ he muttered under his breath to the point where I couldn’t hear him.

‘What did he say?’

‘He should watch where he’s go...’ Without finishing the sentence, he looked at me intensely, and a mischievous half-smile formed on his mouth.

‘Do you work here?’

‘Yes... I’m from the catering service.’

‘Perfect! And you don’t look bad either; you can serve me...’ he said, releasing my hand to lift my chin, looking at me carefully. Nervous about his enthusiastic attitude, I replied:

‘Do you want to earn fifty thousand in one night?’ My eyes widened at hearing such a large amount mentioned so casually.

‘What do you think I am? Some kind of escort?’ My response seemed to amuse him, and he asked:

‘How much will you earn in this place?’

‘I don’t have to tell you, so I’ll pretend you didn’t say anything and leave.’ About to enter the hall, I heard him say:

‘Marry me tonight.’

‘What!?’ I turned quickly, looking at him with a bewildered expression while a radiant smile lit up his privileged framed face.

A strange proposition



‘Do we know each other?’ That he didn’t remember was proof that, for him, my existence went unnoticed in his life, and he had simply forgotten me. We were always on different wavelengths.

‘What? Um... I think... not.’

‘You think?’ he inquired, raising his bushy eyebrow. ‘But you just said my name very casually.’

‘Because you’re the groom, right?’ I let out a bitter laugh and pointed.

‘Yes, I guess you’re right... the jilted groom,’ he muttered under his breath to the point where I couldn’t hear him.

‘What did he say?’

‘He should watch where he’s go...’ Without finishing the sentence, he looked at me intensely, and a mischievous half-smile formed on his mouth.

‘Do you work here?’

‘Yes... I’m from the catering service.’

‘Perfect! And you don’t look bad either; you can serve me...’ he said, releasing my hand to lift my chin, looking at me carefully.