FORCED MARRIAGE | Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

34

Hope keeps you alive. I think this proverb has never been so real because hope is now the only thing that keeps me alive right now. -Y/N

Startled by a knock on the door while I'm in the kitchen, surrounded by an unusual display of all our knives meticulously arranged on the table, from the smallest to the largest, I find it a peculiar sight, even to myself. I hadn't intended to use them; I just felt compelled to lay them out, to see the glint of the blades. As I gaze at them, contemplating without intent, the knocks persist, drawing my attention away. I exhale heavily, drained both mentally and physically from a sleepless night filled with tears.

Summoning what little energy remains, I answer the door, greeted by a familiar face—my savior in this moment of despair—my best friend, Hailee. She rushes into my arms, her weight pressing against me, but I hold her tightly, refusing to let go, unwilling to engage in any further strife. This is the first time we've clashed, and I'm resolved not to revisit that discord. Stepping back, she appraises me, her eyes widening at the sight before her. 

"Sorry, but you look like shit babe," she observes, her surprise evident as she takes in my disheveled state. I exhale wearily, acknowledging the accuracy of her assessment. I must present a sorry sight, resembling a disarrayed figure teetering on the brink of despair.

"I've booked tickets for us to California," she announces, her smile injecting a glimmer of optimism into the tumult surrounding us. "We depart in two hours, so gather yourself." Relief washes over me at the prospect of escape. Jenna awaits in CA, and soon I'll embark on a quest to reconcile, to mend the misunderstanding that drove her away. I empathize with her uncertainty, her suspicion that I might betray her with Olivia.

"Oh, and one more thing," Hailee interjects, her expression shifting to one of disapproval as she surveys my unkempt appearance. "Go take a shower, because I'm transforming you into a vision of elegance, no, into an absolute queen, because you're on a mission to reclaim your betroth."

"I don't think she'd like to see me like this, Hailee... Am I too sophisticated?" I murmur, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. Clad in a refined black dress with a plunging neckline, devoid of a bra, adorned with delicate lace that hints at my skin, I project an image of wealth and elegance. My hair lacks its usual meticulously styled appearance. Despite the dark circles under my eyes, I still possess an allure, yet uncertainty clouds my mind regarding Jenna's reaction. She's never criticized my penchant for casual attire. She fell in love with me when I habitually dressed haphazardly, and I wonder if this transformation will meet her approval. Dresses and heels aren't my usual choice; simplicity is more to my liking. I long to appear ordinary. However, duty calls, and Hailee has even prepared a note for her. I haven't had a chance to read it, as time is of the essence, with our departure looming in an hour. 

"Y/N, stop it ! You look absolutely gorgeous. Now quick, let's go to my car, don't forget your purse."

"Relax, we've arrived." 

In just moments, I'll be reunited with my wife. I'm filled with trepidation, afraid she won't welcome me back. Worried I'll find her with another woman in her bed, anxious she's found someone better than me. These thoughts plague me, and this dress feels suffocating, the stress making me perspire profusely.

"Watch the bouquet as you get in, the taxi is waiting." I step into the taxi, my heart racing even faster. Hailee joins me, giving directions to the driver. I make sure the note she wrote for me is safely tucked in my bag, touching it to confirm it's there without disturbing the bouquet of roses. Hailee organized everything, even covering the expenses. I'm unsure where she got the money for the flight to california, as well as the bouquet and taxi. Maybe Tyler is helping out, or perhaps Josh, who knows. Glancing at my seldom-worn luxury watch, it shows 3:55 PM. Nearly 4:00 PM, and yet I'm still not in my wife's arms. She might be as anxious as I am. Maybe she's already moved on, realizing I'm not worthy of her love.