Waiting for the Right One

Jonah always had a reason to delay our wedding.

At first, he said I was too young and he didn't want to tie me down with marriage. Then, he claimed he wanted to start a business first to provide me with a better life and put my family at ease. Every excuse sounded noble, as if everything he did was for my sake.

I loved Jonah, so I believed him. I truly thought he had my best interests at heart. Whenever my brother grumbled about wanting to beat Jonah to a pulp, I defended him.

I waited for six years. My friends even joked that if I didn't get married soon, the relationship would fall apart before I ever became a bride.

Finally, Jonah proposed.

The wedding date was set, the preparations were underway—but he still refused to meet my parents. He claimed he wanted to surprise them at the wedding.

Then, just like that, Nadia returned with her terminally ill mother.

That was when I realized—I had been a joke all along.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh and pulled Jonah's ID card from the drawer, tossing it toward him.

"Relax, I have no interest in marrying a second-hand husband."

The words seemed to hit him hard. His brows furrowed and he said,

"How many times do I have to explain this before you get it? What I'm giving her is just a show, a wedding in name only. Once it's over, I'm completely yours. Why can't you be satisfied with that?"

"Right, of course. Go ahead and get your marriage certificate then."

Jonah's fingers trembled slightly as he took the ID card.

Maybe he felt guilty, or maybe he was just trying to convince himself, but he hastily added, "Look, I'm not actually going to register the marriage with Nadia. We're just going through the motions at the City Hall..."

If it was just for show, why did he need his ID?

I responded with a simple "oh," my expression indifferent. Jonah seemed momentarily thrown off by my lack of reaction.

He hesitated, then stepped forward, trying to kiss me as if to soothe me—but before he could, Nadia, who had been eavesdropping at the door for who knew how long, suddenly barged in.

She lunged between us, using just enough force to knock me backward.

I lost my balance, stumbling onto the floor. At the same time, she flung herself dramatically into Jonah's arms.

He caught her instinctively, but the momentum sent them both toppling over.

I sat on the cold floor and watched as Nadia ended up straddling Jonah. Her cheeks flushed, her breath shallow and then—she murmured in a voice just loud enough for me to hear,

"Jonah, your abs are still as hard as they used to be..."

Jonah stiffened, coughing awkwardly. He looked uncomfortable, but he didn't push her away. His hands remained firmly on her waist.

Nadia turned her gaze toward me, her eyes welling up with tears. She bit her lip, as if on the verge of sobbing.

"Arabelle, I'm so sorry! Please, you can yell at me, hit me, do whatever you need to—just don't take it out on Jonah! If he gets hurt..."

Disgusted by their pathetic act, I pushed myself up from the floor and walked straight out of the room.

"If you're so worried, then go ahead and check him out. Want me to give you some privacy?"

Jonah's expression twisted. His face, already tinged with lust, darkened instantly. I wasn't sure if he was holding something back or just furious.

"Arabelle! That's disgusting."

Disgusting?

It hadn't even been thirty seconds and he was already reminiscing about old times with Nadia. Who was being disgusting here?

I turned back and kindly closed the door for them.

As I waited for the elevator, I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Nadia, her face still glowing, her lips suspiciously moist, rushed over to block my path.

"Arabelle, I'm really sorry! Please don't misunderstand things between Jonah and me. That was truly just an accident! If it weren't for my mother insisting on seeing a marriage certificate, I wouldn't have asked Jonah for this favor. I beg you, please don't cause trouble at the wedding."

She even made a move to kneel before me.

Before she could, Jonah—now looking perfectly composed—grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. His glare was ice-cold.

"Arabelle, I'm warning you—don't take this too far. If things spiral out of control, you won't be able to fix it."

His voice was laced with authority, a command I was supposed to obey.

"From today until the wedding is over, you are to stay at home and behave yourself. I'll arrange for a bodyguard to keep an eye on you."