Mr. Thorne

CHAPTER 5

"Do you, Alexander Caspian Thorne, take Joanne Josephine Wellesley to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto to pledge your faithfulness?"

The words hung heavy in the air. The weight of the vows pressed down on me, guilt gnawing its way into my conscience as I bit my lips. I felt like a horrible person for forcing Mr. Thorne into this charade, especially since he had wanted a simple contract, a cold, business-like agreement. He clearly just wanted to get it over with. But I had insisted on a proper wedding, a desperate attempt to make it seem real.

"I do," he answered, his voice as distant as ever. No emotion, no warmth—just the flat, almost bored tone of a man going through the motions. And yet, I could feel heat rising to my cheeks. Embarrassment? Maybe. But there was something else in that flush that I couldn’t quite place.

The priest turned to me, his gaze soft as he repeated the vows, and for a moment, I froze. My mind went blank, and all I could do was stare at him, my lips pressed together as if glued shut. I stole a glance at Mr. Thorne, who raised an eyebrow, looking vaguely amused. He couldn’t have cared less if I said yes or no. This was all my idea, after all, but suddenly the words felt heavy, almost foreign on my tongue. The little voice in my head whispered, Was I doing the right thing?

"I do!" I declared, my voice surprisingly firm despite how hard my heart was pounding. My gaze remained fixed on Mr. Thorne, his face an unreadable mask yet I drew a strange sense of comfort from his presence. All this was a lie, a web of deceit, yet in that moment, it felt like the only truth.

After exchanging rings, the priest's words hung in the air: "You may now kiss the bride." A flutter of anticipation pulsed through me. I stole a glance at Mr. Thorne, and his expression revealed nothing, it was as impassive as ever. Yet, a part of me clung to a sliver of hope.

His soft lips touched my forehead, a gentle press that sent a shiver down my spine. It was a chaste gesture, a mere formality, yet something about his touch made my heart race. Maybe it was the difference between his usual reserved demeanor and this intimate act, or maybe it was the simple fact that he had touched me at all. Whatever the reason may be, a blush crept its way up my cheeks. Only Mr. Thorne could make a simple kiss on the forehead feel like so much more.

Later, in the lively atmosphere of the reception, I found a moment to pull Anya aside. She wasted no time, wrapping me in a tight hug, though her gaze was locked on Mr. Thorne. "Congratulations on the marriage, sweetie," she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with genuine happiness. I couldn’t help but laugh.

A playful smirk tugged at my lips. "Is that for me or the man behind me?" I teased, nodding toward Mr. Thorne, who was deep in conversation with a group of men.

Anya's laughter bubbled up, infectious as ever. "Can you blame me?" she grinned, still eyeing Mr. Thorne. "That man is gorgeous!"

I rolled my eyes, leaning in closer. "Careful, Anya. You’re drooling."

She nudged me with her elbow, pretending to look offended. "Oh, please. If I had a shot with that, you know I'd go for it."

We burst into laughter, drawing a few curious glances from nearby guests. I shook my head, glancing at Mr. Thorne, still deep in conversation. "Yeah, good luck with that. The man barely smiles."

Anya raised an eyebrow, mischief in her eyes. "That’s just a challenge, sweetie. Maybe he’s waiting for the right woman."

I shot her a playful glare. "Anya, you know that’s my husband, right?"

She threw her hands up in mock surrender, grinning. "Hey, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. You scored big time!" She let out a dramatic sigh, fanning herself. "But can you blame a girl for appreciating fine art?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Yeah, well, tell that to the guy who rarely cracks a smile."

Anya gave me a sly look. "Oh, I bet he’s a total softie behind closed doors." She leaned in with a mischievous smile. "Just don’t forget, sweetie, I’m here if you ever get tired of him. I’ll happily step in."

I snorted, sipping my champagne. "Don’t worry, you only have to wait two years."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of congratulations, well-wishes, and forced smiles. I kept an eye out for Rylan and my stepsister, but thankfully, they were nowhere to be found. The night drew to a close, and soon it was time to return home. Together with Mr. Thorne. I mean, as was expected... except—

"No."

I turned to him, stunned. "What?"

"I said no," he repeated, his voice low and measured, a simmering annoyance barely masked by his calm exterior. "We won’t be living together."

I blinked, thrown off balance. "What.. why? We are married!" I whispered, the disappointment in my voice slipping through before I could stop it.

He gave me an irritated look. "Don't get ahead of yourself. This is a contract marriage, young lady, and do I need to tell you what it means?" It wasn't a question. A surge of anger and frustration bubbled within me, but I managed to suppress it.

"I have a reputation to keep, Mr. Thorne. I can't afford the next newspaper headlines to be that of my unhappy marriage," I replied, my voice steady, a mask of composure slipping over my true feelings. Mr. Thorne was making this far more complicated than it needed to be.

He ran his hands through his hair, a gesture of frustration that was all too familiar. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Different rooms!" he finally declared.

A laugh, unintended and unrestrained, bubbled up from within me. I covered my mouth with my hand, but the sound still escaped. "Of course," I managed to say, my voice laced with amusement. "Where else would I be sleeping?"

I would have sworn I saw a blush crept across Mr. Thorne's ear, or maybe it was just the dim lighting of the car. Whatever the reason, it was gone as quickly as it came.

My gaze drifted to the passing scenery of the moving car, a colorful mess of lights and shadows speeding by like a wild canvas. Today was the day everything changed. I had no clue what the future held, but for now, I was all about living in the moment, wrapped up in this surreal new reality I'd just stepped into.

My lips curled into a soft, satisfied smile.