Love's Gentle Storm

For example, she said she was still young and didn't want to be tied down by marriage. For example, she wanted her career to be more stable so that she could better support my family's business after marriage. Every reason was supposedly for my own good.

Because I loved her, I truly believed she was thinking of me and even worked to calm my sister, who had long wanted to beat her up.

I waited six years. My friends joked that if I didn't marry soon, we'd reach the seven-year itch. Only then did she agree to my tenth proposal.

The wedding date was set and the preparations were made, but she still refused to meet my parents, claiming she wanted to surprise them at the wedding.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Terry returned to the country with his terminally ill mother. Only then did I realize I was a joke.

I smiled bitterly and helped Patricia retrieve her ID card from the drawer, "Don't worry, I'm not interested in another man's wife."

This remark seemed to sting Patricia. She frowned and said, "How many times do I have to explain for you to understand? This is just a pretend wedding. Once it's over, I'll be entirely yours. What more do you want?"

I said casually, "I understand. Go ahead and get the marriage certificate. It's best to fully commit to the act." The sincerity on my face made her hand tremble as she reached for her ID card.

Perhaps feeling guilty, she explained, "I won't really register the marriage with Terry. It's just a formality at the civil affairs office ..." Even formalities require an ID card?

I responded nonchalantly with an "Oh," which left Patricia momentarily unsettled by my unusual reaction.

She stepped closer, intending to comfort me with a kiss. But just then, Terry, who had likely been eavesdropping for some time, suddenly barged in between us.

He moved aggressively, subtly using force to push me backward. I stumbled and fell to the ground, while he pulled the nearly-colliding Patricia into his arms.

Frightened, she clung tightly to him. The two of them, pressed close together, lost their balance and fell to the ground.

I coldly watched as Patricia sat on Terry and he, his face flushed, rasped in a voice just loud enough for me to hear, "Patricia, you're … crushing me ..."

Blushing, Patricia let out a light cough but didn't remove her hand from his abs.

Terry, his eyes full of suggestiveness, glanced at her before turning to me with a feigned helplessness, "Anthony, I'm sorry. You can hit me or scold me, but don't take it out on Patricia! If she gets hurt from the fall ..."

Uninterested in watching the nauseating pair clinging to each other, I stood up and headed for the door, "If she's hurt, you can check her yourself. Do you need me to close the door for you?"

At my words, the desire-filled flush on Patricia's face instantly darkened. Whether from anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell.

She scolded me right away, "Anthony! How can you be so filthy?"

Filthy? She was the one sitting coyly on Terry without getting up, who exactly was being filthy? Considerately, I closed the door for them.

While waiting for the elevator, Terry came out with his face still damp with suspicious water streaks and blocked my path, "Anthony, I'm sorry. Please don't misunderstand me and Patricia. It really was a misunderstanding just now! If it weren't for my mother insisting on seeing a marriage certificate, I wouldn't have troubled Patricia! I beg you, please respect my filial piety and don't cause trouble at the wedding!"

"When the time comes, I'll divorce Patricia and return her to you!" As he spoke, he actually tried to kneel and beg me.

Before he could, the now-composed Patricia rushed over to pull him up, glaring angrily at me, "Anthony, I'm warning you, don't go too far, or there'll be no turning back! From today until the wedding is over, stay at home and behave yourself. I'll arrange for a bodyguard to watch over you!"