Marrying Into the Family of My Fiancé's Killer

See you soon, Future Husband

—Present—

The sound of the pen point scratching over the piece of paper pierced through the silence in the room when I finally―after the long wait―scribble down my signature on the designated part of the contract. I already had my decision long before, and the last hour of sitting with him over dinner was the last move I needed to make to see whether I will one day find any comfort of sharing the same space with him, after knowing that I have shared the same intentions since the beginning.

Well, almost everything.

“Done,” I let Noah know once I have finished with the task. I put the lid back on the pen and put it down, next to the papers and straighten my body on my seat to once again look across the table and stare into his eyes. Noah gives me a delightful smile and nods his head towards the butler who has been standing at the corner of the room, giving him a sign to take the folder of papers and the pen away.

I watch silently as the older man takes them in his hands and submits them to his employer, before retreating from my sight once again. Holding my gaze, I watch silently as Noah holds the contract in his hand, his eyes lingering over it as if he is studying the words―even when I know he won’t have to do it when he is the one who made it―before he finally places them back over the table and starts leaving his own signature on it.

“Well then,” he speaks once he is done with his part, putting back the lid of the pen before placing it in the front pocket of his shirt. “I’m glad that we can finally settle with the agreement. I will arrange for the next step and set out the date for the public marriage proposal and our engagement party. I’m sure that three months is already enough time to grieve, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure people won’t have any problems with seeing you accepting a new wedding proposal by then.”

“Do we really have to make it so big―and public?”

A smile appears on Noah’s face as he chuckles. “Of course, we do. It’s the only way to let the world know of our future plans and announce that there will be no other chances for anyone else to take your hand in marriage aside for me. I’m sure what I talked about people pestering you on your future plans have already started, don’t they?”

I release an annoyed sigh at his question. “Yes, they have. Even when it had only been two weeks after the funeral, some of my father’s colleagues have been asking about who he would choose as his future son-in-law and successor. Most of them claiming that I am deemed unfit of handling such a huge line of business.”

I let out a scoff at the thought, angry at the men who dare to look down on me, but also grateful for their presence, since they were the main reason why I became sure of accepting Noah’s proposal.

“Those men are wrong. I know for sure that you will be most fitting,” Noah speaks out, much to my surprise. But I give him no words to interject or accept his subtle compliment, only choosing to give him a grateful smile instead.

“Now that the dinner and everything else is settled, I think it’s best that I should retire for the night and head on home,” I say to him with a small smile, nodding at the butler to give him a sign to help pull my chair away and help me get on my feet. But before the man even has any chance of leaving his spot, Noah waves his hand at him and leaves his own seat gracefully, to immediately take the honour of pulling my chair back himself.

“Thank you for giving your precious time to join me for dinner,” he says, taking my hand in his when I finally stand on his side. “I shall walk you to the front door.”

I take the walk from the dining room towards the front door by Noah’s side, the palm of his hand that is placed on my back as he calmly guides me on my way leaves a subtle warmth that is both foreign yet comforting. It is the first time he touches me or to be so close to me, since the time he took my hand at the day of the funeral. And it is the first time I let anyone touch me ever since the passing of my fiancé.

I try my best to divert my attention away from the warm touch on my back just to keep my senses as clear as day, but I can’t help but notice how the touch sends my heart to flutter.

Perhaps it is the fact that this man will soon be your partner, both in life and in business, or perhaps I missed the simplest of touches on my skin. Whatever it could be, I refuse to find out the reason why. And thankfully, just when I am so close to losing my calm, I am now both standing at the front door and ready to bid my goodbyes.

Noah’s hand leaves my back as he steps forward and takes the handle of the front door. He suddenly stops himself from pulling the door to open fully and turns his body to look at me.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he said suddenly. Hesitant―from the looks I catch in his eyes and how he subtly purses his lips―and curious. “When was your wedding day supposed to happen?”

I smile at him forcefully. I have been expecting him to ask me about it that I have been preparing myself on how to respond, assuming that once the question appears, I would be hurt by the memory of it. But now when he is actually asking me about it, I feel nothing. I feel too numb to be true.

“Today,” I answered him with a soft voice, the kind of voice that causes the light in his eyes to flicker with pity, guilt, and sadness. “Today was supposed to be my wedding day.”

Noah lowers his face while he pulls the door to fully open. But right before I take another step forward towards the exit, he catches my hand gently before leaning down to leave soft kisses on my knuckles and on the back of my hand.

“Please drive safely.”

“Thank you,” I said to him, keeping my voice the best I can from shaking. “I will wait for your call, Noah Sullivan.”