Diamonds in the Rough

Jane reclined on the plush bed, her gaze lost in the nothingness before her. It was the eve of her wedding, a night that traditionally held promises of bliss and intimate connection. However, she found herself dreading the events that typically unfolded on such nights. She knew all too well that her newlywed husband would never touch her, not in the way a husband should. He didn't regard her as a desirable woman, let alone consider the notion of embracing, smooching, or making love to her.

A shiver ran down her spine as she entertained the thought that he might even resort to forcing himself upon her, a cruel punishment for consenting to this loveless union. Uncertainty clouded her mind as she questioned her very presence on the bed. The mere assumption of such a position might send the wrong signals to him, misleading him into believing she desired him. Who knew how he would react or what venomous words he would spew forth?

Just as Jane contemplated retreating to the safety of the nearby couch, the door creaked open, sealing her fate within the confines of the bedroom. She had no choice but to remain where she sat, frozen in trepidation. And there he stood, entering the room with an air of towering, irresistible allure. Her husband, a devastatingly handsome man in his thirties, exuded an undeniable charm. Tall, with a bronzed complexion and a smoldering presence, he was a sight to behold. If only he had chosen her out of love or genuine desire, she might have considered herself the most fortunate of women.

Discarding his jacket and unbuttoning the top buttons of his crisp white shirt, he revealed a tantalizing glimpse of his chiseled, muscular chest. Jane lifted her gaze to meet his, only to find him leering at her with a cold, arrogant smirk adorning his face.

"Done checking me out, are you?" he sneered in a frigid, sarcastic tone, receiving no response from her. Pressing on, he continued his verbal assault. "I suppose you are, my dear minx. But rest assured, you hold no power to seduce me. Your eyes, your body—they do nothing to tempt me. You simply aren't my type, nor do you hold any allure whatsoever."

His words stung deeply, piercing her heart with their venomous barbs. Yet, she resolved not to reveal the extent of her pain to him. She would maintain her composure, for he was merely attempting to provoke her, wasn't he?

"The worst thing to ever happen to me is you," he calmly but venomously declared. "I agreed to this wretched marriage solely due to my sick, dying father's wishes, as well as the inheritance of the company that awaits me upon marrying you. Don't, even for a moment, believe that this marriage stands a chance, because it will never work!" His words dripped with loathing. "Rest assured, once these agonizing three years come to an end, I shall divorce you without hesitation."

Jane let out a weary sigh. "I understand," she responded dryly, her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.

"And don't expect me to fulfill any husbandly duties towards you," he declared coldly. "We are bound by a mere paper contract, and I shall never regard you as my wife!" Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to cascade down her cheeks. "To me, you are nothing more than a housemate."

Suppressing her tears, she blinked them away, refusing to show her vulnerability to this arrogant brute. "I understand," she uttered slowly, her tone firm and resolute.

"Good," he replied with a nod. "I shall be taking up residence in a guest room. There's no need for us to share the same chamber."

She lifted her gaze to meet his, surprise etched on her face. "But this is your room. You should sleep here. I can occupy one of the guest rooms."

"The decision has been made," he asserted. "I won't entertain any arguments from you."

With those final words, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Jane sat there, fixated on the closed entrance, until she could no longer contain her emotions. Her tears broke free, streaming down her cheeks in a cascade of despair.

Her life had been irrevocably shattered, all because of a foolish promise. In her heart, she held no blame for her deceased father, for he had never foreseen the turn of events. Had he known, he would never have imposed such a fate upon her. Or so she desperately hoped.

Standing up, she removed her wedding dress—a random gown she had stumbled upon, devoid of the meticulous searching and fittings that accompany joyous brides-to-be. She had never desired this wedding, just as he hadn't. Yet, it was her father's dying wish and her mother's coercion that propelled them forward. Both their mothers had orchestrated the entire affair, each wanting no part in it.

Though Jane had contributed sporadically to the planning, Alex never showed the slightest interest in its progress, at least not in her presence. He was entirely detached. His father, Martin, gravely ill at the time, had managed to attend the ceremony. It was his deteriorating health that had primarily swayed John to acquiesce to this union. His father held a deep fondness for Jane, and she reciprocated that sentiment. He had become a second father to her, a benevolent figure who had supported and provided for her family ever since her father's passing.

On the other hand, alex's mother was the embodiment of disdain for this union. Like her son, she despised the arrangement. She harbored a sharp animosity toward Jane and her mother, dismissing the marriage as nothing more than a business contract. Jane often wondered how her own passionate and headstrong mother managed to collaborate so effectively with Bella, Alex's mother. Perhaps they reached a temporary truce in their shared goal of planning the perfect wedding, as they perceived it, for their beloved children.

The wedding itself had been an extravagant affair, exorbitantly costly, with an extensive guest list despite Jane's and Alex's desire for a small, intimate celebration. On that day, unlike most brides-to-be, she did not eagerly anticipate becoming John's wife. Instead, tears had accompanied her into a fitful slumber the night before. Contrary to his assumptions, she had not yearned for this union.

Slowly, she had traversed the aisle, each step laden with apprehension. When Alex's eyes met hers, she caught a fleeting glimpse of admiration and a mysterious emotion she couldn't decipher. However, he swiftly resumed his customary facade of impenetrable stoicism. The vows were spoken, rings exchanged, and the dreaded moment arrived—the moment when the couple was pronounced husband and wife, the moment for the groom to seal the union with a kiss. For a few suspended seconds, their gazes locked, until unexpectedly, he stepped forward, encircled her waist with his hands, and pressed his lips to hers. A faint tremor coursed through her body, an unexpected surge of excitement that stirred her very core. She instinctively rested her hands on his arms, momentarily immersed in the illicit thrill.

To her surprise, John's kiss lingered longer than she had anticipated. When he eventually withdrew, his eyes had darkened, yet the hard mask of indifference remained firmly in place. It was then that she inadvertently glanced at her former fiancé, James. His countenance depicted a shattered heart, and her own heart ached in response. However, before she could advert her gaze, her new husband intercepted her line of sight and followed it, discovering the object of her attention. His features hardened further, but he remained silent as the ceremony drew to a close and the reception commenced.

Thoughts of James lingered in Jane's mind. He had proposed to her on the very day her mother had revealed the impending betrothal to Alex. Breaking up with James had been an agonizing ordeal. He had wept and implored her to reconsider, yet she was as powerless as he was. Their parting had been accompanied by tears, hugs, and lingering kisses. James had continued to call her, even to this day.

For a fleeting moment, Jane contemplated engaging in an affair with James, knowing well that her husband wouldn't object and that he himself would likely stray, given his notorious reputation with women. If he were to discover her indiscretion, he would hardly mind.

However, she promptly shook her head, dismissing such notions. Despite being married in name only, she would never stoop to infidelity. She had vowed her loyalty and faithfulness to Alex at the altar, for better or worse, until the fateful day of divorce. Even though his contempt for her was palpable, she would strive to fulfill her role as his lawfully wedded wife. It would be an arduous burden to bear, but she had willingly accepted it.

For the next three years, she would endure as Mrs. Alex Jordan, whether she likes it or not. The choice had been made, and she had no option but to play her part, even in a loveless charade.