Settling in

From the corner of her eye, she caught the sight of him emerging, steam curling behind him like mist. He was shirtless, a white towel slung low around his hips. Water glistened on his chest, droplets tracing the defined ridges of his torso down his lean waist. Halle's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively turned her head away, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He didn't say a word, didn't seem the least bothered by her discomfort.

With maddening ease, he walked to the closet and pulled out a plain white t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He dressed unhurried, seemingly unconcerned with modesty or the presence of his new wife. Each movement was practiced, confident_ almost like was aware of the effect he had and didn't care.

Halle kept her gaze roaming anywhere but towards where he was.

When he finished dressing, Raphael ran a hand through his damp black hair, ruffling it slightly before slipping on a designer wristwatch.

"I'll be heading to the office," he said suddenly, voice sharp and clear. Halle only looked up at him, no words coming out of her mouth. "I might be late."

He strode towards the door, his hand already on the knob before he paused and added, "If you need anything, you can speak to Clarice_ the housekeeper. She knows how to reach me if it's urgent. You'll find her in the kitchen or roaming the main floor."

He was about to turn the knob when Halle's voice stopped him.

"Raphael."

He turned his head slowly, eyebrows lifting slightly in mild curiosity.

She rose from the bed, her voice soft but firm, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her nerves danced under her skin, but she didn't let them show.

"I know that we are married and all that, but I still had a life before this. Maybe you don't know this but I'm on my last year at the university. Will my studies stop just because we are married?"

There was a pause. Then, Raphael let out a dry, almost amused huff.

"Of course not," he replied, voice laced with an ironic softness that bordered on patronizing. "I may be many things, Halle, but I'm not an unreasonable man. Your education continues. I wouldn't interfere with that."

She nodded at his response and he smirked faintly, as if aware of how absurd it sounded given the events earlier.

"You'll soon find that while I have my rules, I'm not a tyrant. You're free to live your life, so long as you don't do anything that I might not like.

Seeing it as an opening, she parted her lips to say,

"Since this is not an actual marriage, can't I just get a room. I don't mind sleeping on a couch."

At her words, his face became serious and before leaving the room, he said, "Don't stretch it Halle."

*************

Left alone, Halle sat down once more, staring at the closed door. There was no familiarity between them. No comfort. No affection. She felt like a tenant in a stranger's home… no, in a stranger's world.

Standing up, her eyes trailed over the expansive closet that stretched along the wall beside the bed. The opposite side—clearly untouched—seemed to await her. It felt oddly intimate, like stepping into a role she had not prepared for. Her feet hesitated before moving, but she eventually reached for her small suitcase and placed it on the bench by the foot of the bed.

The sound of the zipper echoed too loudly in the quiet room. As she opened her luggage, the contrast between her modest pile of clothing and the immensity of the closet space became glaringly obvious. Neatly folded dresses, a few shirts, jeans, and undergarments—items that whispered of her former life—were now tucked into drawers lined with fine velvet. The hangers, carved of polished mahogany, seemed too luxurious for her simple clothes.

When she finished, there remained more empty space than what she had filled. Her presence felt temporary, unanchored.

Sighing softly, Halle pulled out a towel and the change of clothes she had selected—a plain navy shirt and a pair of jeans. She stepped toward the door, her instincts urging her to lock it. The click of the bolt falling into place offered some strange semblance of control.

Standing in the centre of the room again, she reached behind her back and begun unfastening the intricate lacing of her wedding gown. The dress slipped away slowly, like a shroud being cast off. She let it fall to the floor in a gentle rustle of silk.warpping a towel tightly around her body, she stepped into the bathroom.

The warm water was brief, a quick escape to rinse off the weight of the ceremony.

When she returned to the room, steam followed her like a veil. Her hair clung to her skin in wet strands as she dressed quickly, trying to find comfort in her chosen clothes.

---

Meanwhile, miles away, Raphael sat behind the glass-topped desk in his office. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like a canvas, drenched in the glow of the late noon sun. His office was modern, a blend of steel and elegance, with just a hint of something darker.

Stacks of documents lay in front of him—design proposals, financial forecasts, partnership contracts. The logo of his company, "Verlis Motors," gleamed subtly from the corners of the papers. It was a name known across continents, a company revered for high-performance luxury vehicles, and Raphael was the force behind it.

A soft knock broke the silence.

"Come in," he said without lifting his gaze.

The door opened, and in walked a young man, equally well-dressed, with sharp green eyes and chestnut hair slicked back in a modern style. His frame was leaner than Raphael's, but he held himself with the casual confidence of someone who knew his worth.

"You're actually here. Working," the man teased, dropping into one of the leather chairs across from Raphael. "On your wedding day."

Raphael finally looked up, arching an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, yes."

Adrian smirked. "Well, I guess I expected some wine. Cake. Maybe a bride who looked thrilled. But from what I see, none of that is going to happen."

Raphael leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepling thoughtfully. "You should stop expecting anything from people Adrian. What that matters is that I finally married her."

"Sure," Adrian said. "But do you think that she would stay if she were to know who you are, or the reason as the why you married her?"

Raphael didn't reply immediately. His gaze turned back to the document on his desk, but he wasn't really reading it.

"Let us hope that she will stay. But in the meantime, I'd rather she doesn't know anything. Anyway, what has brought you here?"

"Just came to drop off the market analysis. Thought I'd see the legendary newlywed groom who is working instead of having the best time of his life."

"You can leave it on the desk. While you are at that, mind you own business."

Raphael said, his focus returning back on the document at hand.

"Alright, boss." Adrian said while dramtically raising both hands as if he was surrendering.