Revenge Marriage

Chapter-3

A month later, I sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, glancing at my wristwatch for the third time in what felt like only a few seconds.

"Remind me why I'm here," I muttered, half to myself and half to Rafe, who was leaning casually against the boutique's chic wall.

Rafe didn't hesitate before responding. "I did that exactly forty seconds ago. The answer won't change just because you want it to."

I exhaled sharply, frustration building in my chest. "I can't believe I'm here, wasting my time on this..."

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "And yet, here you are, in the middle of a bridal boutique, playing the role of the dutiful groom."

I folded my arms tightly across my chest and slouched further into the sofa. Only five days until my wedding. Five days, and my life would be forever changed. But sitting in this lavish boutique, waiting for Alishba to arrive, felt like a cruel joke.

She was late—again. And it wasn't just any dress we were waiting for; it was *her* dress. I was supposed to be making important decisions at work, yet here I was, waiting for her to pick out a wedding gown like it was some romantic fairy tale. I couldn't understand why her family insisted on these endless customs. The whole thing felt suffocating, absurd, and wasteful.

I could feel the knot in my stomach tighten as my gaze drifted over the boutique's elegant interior. Some women were here, frantically searching for a dress that would secure them a future—a future built on a man's approval. I couldn't help but resent the whole marriage market. It made me feel like I was just another buyer picking out a commodity.

Rafe, sensing my discomfort, leaned over with a teasing grin. "Remind me, again, why you're here?" His voice was laced with a playful challenge.

I groaned. "Don't remind me, Rafe. I know why I'm here, and I'm not happy about it."

Rafe's chuckle was loud enough to draw a few glances. "To find a wife for you, my friend," he said, shrugging. "Don't want to die without an heir, do you?"

The words stung, but I managed a dry smile. "Don't think the thought hasn't crossed my mind."

As if on cue, the glass door of the boutique swung open, and Alishba walked in, accompanied by her friend. My gaze immediately shifted to her, taking in her long, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, her soft, white maxi dress hugging her delicate frame.

She caught sight of me and smiled, a soft, almost nervous smile. It was the kind of smile that spoke of something hidden beneath the surface—a fear, perhaps, or a hope. But it was quickly masked by the polite façade she had perfected.

She moved toward us, and I couldn't help but notice how she looked—beautiful, yes—but also so painfully out of place in this world I'd created for myself. A world where emotions were muted, where appearances were everything, and where love was a foreign concept.

"Hi... sorry we're late," Alishba said, her voice soft, her eyes lingering on me for just a moment too long before she quickly looked away. "We got stuck in traffic."

I barely acknowledged her apology. My mind was elsewhere, locked in its own dark thoughts. "Can we just get on with it?" I asked, the indifference in my tone clear.

"Yeah..." she replied, almost too quickly, and I noticed the hesitation in her voice. She looked over at Rafe before turning her attention back to me. "He's my friend, Rafe," I introduced him curtly.

Rafe extended a hand with his usual charm. "Hi, I'm Rafe," he said, his grin wide and warm.

"I'm Ali..." she responded, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.