Two weeks later, in a small office, Enzo arrived looking like he was forced to be there. He was wearing a black suit, his face completely unreadable. Meanwhile, I was in a white silk dress—simple but elegant. I wanted to wear a veil, but I knew this wasn't the moment I had dreamed of as a little girl.
This wasn't my dream wedding, but that didn't matter anymore. What mattered was the man I was marrying.
I was all smiles while signing the papers. Enzo, on the other hand, held the pen like it was a dagger. He stared at the paper for a few seconds before finally signing.
No ring. No vows. No guests aside from our parents. No photos.
Everything was kept a secret.
After the officiant declared us legally married, I turned to him, a wide smile on my lips.
"Congratulations, Mr. Lim. I am yours now."
He didn't look at me. Instead, he muttered coldly, "This changes nothing."
"You can't be too sure. Who knows? Maybe you'll develop feelings eventually."
"Don't expect anything from me."
I nodded, accepting it all.
"I don't need your love right now. I just want you to stay," I whispered.
"Then you've trapped the wrong man," he said, turning his back on me.
I just watched him walk out of the office.
"Eya!" Mom came to me and hugged me tightly. "Congratulations, Sereia. You're officially a Lim now."
I smiled, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Thanks, Mom."
Dad came over too and gently brushed my hair back. "We're proud of you, Eya. We don't know what went through your mind that led you to this decision, but always remember, your mom and I are here. We'll support you no matter what."
"Thank you, Dad. I love you two," I said.
I turned to Enzo's parents. His mom gave me an awkward smile, but I could see in her eyes that she wasn't comfortable at all.
"Welcome to the family, ija. Lorenzo can be difficult to deal with sometimes, but please give him time. He'll come around."
"No worries, Mrs. Lim," I answered softly.
"Call me Mom, ija," she corrected. "You're married to my son now, so don't be shy. You're now part of our family."
I smiled. "Thank you, Mom."
His dad, on the other hand, looked straight into my eyes. "The wedding is done. We held our side of the deal. I hope you understand what that means."
"Yes, Tito, we do."
We stayed a few more minutes before deciding to leave.
"Thank you again. I'll go ahead and follow him," I said as I excused myself.
When I got into the car, he was silent. He didn't even look at me. He stared out the window like he was ready to jump out, even though the car was moving.
Even when we arrived at the new house my parents gave us as a "wedding gift," he still hadn't said a word. He got out of the car first and went inside the house without waiting for me. I sighed and quietly followed. It was only when I stepped inside that he finally spoke.
"Where's my room?" he asked dryly, glancing around.
I looked at him. "What do you mean, your room? We'll sleep in the same room, of course."
"What?!"
"Why are you so surprised? We're married—"
"On paper," he cut me off. "And there was nothing in our agreement that said we'd share the same bed."
I crossed my arms. "Are you seriously making a big deal out of this? It's just a bed. In fact, you've already slept with countless women. Why are you acting like you've never shared a bed with a woman your whole life?"
He looked so offended by what I said.
"You don't get me, do you?" he laughed sarcastically. "Yes, I sleep with women I find attractive. But I still have taste, Sereia. Not every hole is worth entering."
I turned my gaze away from him, disgusted by how vulgar his words were.
"I'm your wife. What do you think you're supposed to do? Sleep on the balcony?!"
"I'd rather do that," he muttered, walking off toward the living room.
"Enzo," I groaned, following him. "Come on, don't be immature. I'm not going to touch you or whatever! You're acting like I'm obsessed—"
"Oh, you are," he cut in. "To the point that you even put yourself in this situation. But I'm telling you now, don't expect me to play house with you. I don't want this. I don't want you!"
"So what now? You're going to act like I'm some kind of disease you want to avoid?"
"If that's what it takes."
Silence filled the room once again.
"You're really not going to sleep beside me?" I asked once more.
"Never. And if you try to insist on it, I'll walk out of this place and never come back."
It took me a minute before I finally gave in to what he wanted.
"Fine! You can take the room beside mine on the second floor."
He didn't even say thank you. He just grabbed his small duffel bag and walked past me like I was nothing.
A few minutes later, I went up to the master bedroom—our supposed room if only he weren't being so hard-headed.
As soon as I entered, the large bed greeted me. I lay on my side, still wearing my white silk dress. The comforter was so soft, the pillows were scented, and the lighting was cozy. I personally chose all of this. I wanted our first night to feel special—at least a little.
He should be beside me right now. I should have a husband to hold tonight. But there was none. No one beside me but a pillow.
I stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever. The whole room was quiet, except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the ticking of the wall clock.
I immediately erased that thought from my head. A few minutes passed, and I still couldn't sleep.
I sat up and grabbed my laptop from the bedside table. I opened it, clicked on the browser, and typed:
What are the duties of a wife?
Articles popped up right away. I clicked on them one by one and read through the content. Most of them talked about how a wife should take care of, support, and love her husband.
Then I scrolled a bit more until one word caught my eye.
Honeymoon.
Right… honeymoon.
We just got married. Supposedly, this night should be spent on some romantic getaway: a room with candles, touching, kissing.
Making love.
But here I am, lying on the bed alone. While he? He's in the next room, probably lying down as if nothing significant happened today.
This isn't right. I'm his wife now. And even if he won't admit it, I have a right to him. He is mine.
I glanced at my drawer. Slowly, I stood up and opened it. I pulled out a set of black lace lingerie I had kept—originally meant for our honeymoon, which I refuse to let go to waste.
Maybe this is what we need—something that might change his mind.
Wearing the sheer lace, I wrapped myself in a silk robe and took a deep breath. I don't know why, but this is the first time I've felt this nervous. I've always been a confident woman in my photoshoots, even in two-piece swimsuits, but now, I feel restless.
Yes, I was nervous, but I've never been the type to back down when I really want something.
I walked out of the master bedroom and tiptoed toward the guest room. I stopped in front of his door. I knocked gently.
He didn't answer.
I knocked again. "Enzo?"
Still nothing.
I slowly twisted the knob and opened the door.
It was dark inside. Only the dim moonlight from the window lit the space. And there he was—lying on the bed, eyes closed, shirtless, and breathing softly.
He was asleep.
I stared at him for a few seconds. His features looked softer when he was asleep.
I stepped closer, barely breathing. I gently sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.
"Enzo…" I whispered.
He didn't move. I bit my lower lip and reached out, brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.
I quickly pulled my hand back when he suddenly opened his eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
I didn't answer him. I stood up from where I was sitting. I didn't break eye contact with him.
"You forgot something…"
He looked at me with a confused expression, but he didn't ask.
I loosened the tie of my robe before letting it fall, leaving my whole body covered with only lingerie.
He immediately sat up on the bed when I did that. "What the fuck are you doing, Sereia?"
I crawled onto the bed until I was right in front of him. I used my knees to balance myself.
"It's our honeymoon, Enzo," I whispered seductively.
He looked away from my body, his jaw clenched. His breathing was heavy, as if he were holding something back.
"Look at me," I commanded. "Don't hold yourself back. My body is all yours, love." I held his chin and turned his face toward me.
"Stop this. Wear your robe and change in your room. Give yourself some respect."
I laughed bitterly. "Really? You're saying that as if you're not my husband!"
"Because I'm not! You're just my wife on paper—"
I cut him off by kissing him. My kisses trailed down to his neck as he remained still, not responding.
"Stop restraining yourself, Enzo. Own me…" I whispered in a hoarse voice.
My hands traveled down to his abs while my lips traced his neck. I heard him moan, but he quickly bit his lower lip to hold himself back. The sight turned me on so much. I could feel my panties getting wet.
When it seemed like he had no intention of moving, I pushed him back onto the bed. I immediately got on top of him.
"Is this how weak you are, Enzo? I thought you were a fuck boy? But it seems like you can't even perform well in bed. Is your dick small? Is that why you're embarrassed to have sex with me?" I laughed, trying to provoke his ego.
His eyes darkened, and his teeth clenched.
"Show me how you fuck those girls every night. How you satisfy their needs. How you make them cry and come in so much pleasure..."
I started grinding on his lap. I could feel the bulge inside his boxer shorts.
"Ahh... you're too big, E-Enzo... I want it inside me, please..." I moved even faster.
"S-Shit, Seria! Stop moving... ah! Hgh..." He said those words despite his actions saying the opposite. He held my waist and guided me at his desired pace.
I looked down at him with my half-open eyes. "Or maybe your performance is just not up to par? If that's the case, you should have told me. I can teach you, you know?" I continued to provoke him.
I gasped as he suddenly switched our positions. I was now underneath him. The whole room was dark, but I could see the desire in his eyes.
"You want this? Fine! But remember that this won't change anything. I'll fuck you, but I still won't love you after this," he said, gripping my waist tighter.