The CEO'S imperfect wife

It was impossible!

It was absurd!

He refused to believe what they had done to him, it was unheard of, a twinge of pain struck in his chest, those fuckers couldn't call themselves family.

They were being unfair.

He had his gaze straight ahead he seemed to take it all in, in reality, he wasn't seeing anything specific. Because he refused to break those images that sprouted in his memory like a projected screen, he found himself in the yard of his old house he saw his parents laughing, he saw them hugging him, them playing in the snow, he blinked repeatedly refusing to lose that memory.

It's been a long time, if they were there.

They wouldn't do that to him.

His parents wouldn't make him.

When she stood next to him she barely managed to comprehend what was happening, her wedding, she was there with that guy to get married.

It was a bad joke that she had to marry someone she didn't love, someone she didn't even seem to care that she had come to the ceremony, because she didn't even turn to look at him. She sighed in frustration at that bad luck. Maybe she should have fought harder, so she could wait for her childhood sweetheart.

"What?!" my shouting didn't make her flinch, I was to marry a stranger, among my plans were not to dress in white and wear fancy heels. "You're kidding!"

My grandfather remained expressionless just like always.

It might seem like I was exaggerating but it was my life we were talking about, I was going to graduate from college in two months and they express so causal that the wedding was to be moved up.

"You see me laughing."

"What?"

"In two months" grandpa must have been playing games, his palpable sarcasm didn't help much either, what the hell was going on, at first thinking of a plan was optional now he had to speed it up and run away "We have already agreed on terms, you must give them a child" sentencing seemed like his best specialty.

"Is it any of my business if he..."

"If you can't even do that right" he spat spitefully, sometimes I forgot they were my own family. "I requested among the terms that if there is no heir, they can use artificial insemination."

"That's absurd."

My voice was barely audible.

I didn't believe what I was hearing, I should marry someone just because grandfather has already given his approval on a path where love will not exist.

Bringing my hands to my hair was indispensable.

What the hell was going on!

I was in a bad game, they must have a camera to indicate they were playing, no, this was real. I was to be joined with an unknown man.

If there was more time I could run away from home, hide for a while and get a job. That dream seemed so far away. At least I needed to graduate to get a job with the best company that would feed me for the rest of my days.

"I won't take it!" vociferating didn't help either.

Grandpa slammed his crystal glass on the floor.

"It's not in your possession," he pointed at me. His face looked so terrifying. Where would I be left with my desire to pursue my childhood love, where would those words from that day be left. "You will" "You think I spent my money these years because I was bored."

Sure, that was the truth.

My parents are already dead.

Who wouldn't want to take advantage of that opportunity?

Would these merciless beings have mercy, wouldn't they, my eyes felt stinging indicating that I would be on the verge of tears if I didn't get the hell out of there. I would look more humiliating. I tensed my jaw refusing to look any weaker in front of the master of the house.

"You must" repeated Grandpa for the umpteenth time.

"No."

"Try to run away and you will know..."

Grandfather flashed a smile that I did not wish to find out, I clenched my fists. Maybe that was the man they admired when we were children. He was a heartless being who only cared about his own profit.

I came out of my daze when a hand pulled me by the arm and that word slipped through my ears.

"I accept."

Lips rested on mine, blinking was indispensable to get a better glimpse, he moved his lips with a unique rhythm, I felt the delicacy in each movement, the sweet elixir that will be given to me for life, increased a frenzy in my system that made me refuse that idea of emptiness before the release of his lips against my own.

I do not know at what point I had given my oath.

All I know is that I do not regret it.

When I met those gray eyes, that curly hair, that sleepy gaze, that sharp nose, that set jaw and that familiar face.

I felt my heart stop.

He was my first childhood love.

Gael is the man I fell in love with ten years ago.

A smile crept across my lips.

When I saw that smile on the other man's face, he was not surprised, on the contrary, he frowned, showing his contempt. Perhaps he thinks he has succeeded in his plan. He shouldn't pretend so well. He won't accept such ambitious looks.

Gael glared at him.

"Don't forget your place! You're nothing but a tool" reminding him of his contract was inevitable, that smile was suddenly erased, she was not to assume that everything would work out.

He was sure that proposing artificial insemination was nothing more than a ruse of that person who is now his wife, she was just looking for a good opportunity. That's how she convinced her grandfather to trap him. That's how they got to the point of getting married.

Hearing him speak so coldly brought me back to reality.

Gael didn't wait for an answer.

He walked out without turning around and disappeared through the reception door.

The sound of music became distant in his ears.

He didn't seem to fit in there.

Being there, it was a mistake.

Dressed in white.

In the middle of the hall of that luxurious reception, she was still static looking at the door waiting for that man.

Both arms like two dead pieces on either side of her body, with her gaze straight ahead, the guests who attended especially for that event, circled past her.

He must have looked so pitiful.

"May I dance with you?"

I accepted the hand that was being offered.

The first dance of the wedding that was to be performed by the husband and wife, the husband having left, was being performed by the bride and an unknown man.

Perhaps that was not so humiliating.