Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

It had been three hours since Davis returned from the hospital, and he had been sitting in the living room, waiting for Jessica’s return. At intervals, he will glance at his wristwatch, his expression calm and impassive.

"I wonder what she’s doing out there," he muttered.

He didn’t want to believe she had forgotten about the dinner—especially since she was the one who had insisted and urged him to accept the invitation in the first place.

"Looks like I’ll have to send her a reminder." He picked up his phone to text her just as the steady roar of her car came through the driveway. He Placed the phone back down and took a deep breath. He had offended her, and he was ready to face her wrath, whatever form it took.

The car engine shut off. Several minutes passed before the car door closed with a firm thud, followed by the sound of her approaching footsteps on the foyer.

"Welcome, madam," Henry greeted, his tone laced with admiration and respect.

He had never expected that the woman rumored to have been forced upon his boss would be the one to keep him from being sent to the rehabilitation center.

"Thank you. How was your day?" Jessica asked jovially.

She always felt uncomfortable being addressed as madam and had already complained to Ethan about it. But his response had left her stumped—"Davis will have my head," he had said. With no way to change things, she had resigned herself to it.

As she stepped into the living room, her gaze landed on Davis, and her expression darkened. She had been furious and planned to settle the score with him but looking at him she could only get angry "If only I could beat this man up," she thought bitterly.

"You’re back?" Davis asked, his eyes glinting with mischief and his lips curling subtly in amusement as he studied the furious woman before him.

Jessica couldn’t help but wonder if he found pleasure in making her angry. If he did, then he had certainly succeeded. Shooting him a glare, she silently walked past him and made her way upstairs to her room.

Davis had expected as much and even more. He had always known that Jessica wasn’t good at hiding her emotions from him. Maybe she wanted him to see the real her. Or maybe she simply found it unnecessary to pretend. Whatever the reason, her emotions were as clear as water to him.

As he wheeled himself forward to follow her, the door to her room shut in his face with a sharp click—locked from the inside.

Davis smiled. So, she’s throwing a tantrum now? Interesting.

Gently, he tapped on the door. "Jessica, at least let me explain." He asked and when no response came forth he sighed "Okay, I am sorry about that. I was wrong?"

Silence.

He sighed but remained seated by the door. He would wait. He had all the time in the world.

Inside the room, Jessica leaned against the closed door, taking a deep breath to steady herself as she listened to his pleading. But the moment she turned around, her breath hitched.

On the bed lay a simple yet elegant champagne-colored evening dress. Its neckline was adorned with cut diamonds that glistened under the light. The hem was pleated with delicate embroidery, and a daring slit ran from the bottom up to her thigh.

She took a hesitant step forward and gently picked up the dress.She swooned as the recognition of the dress. The craftsmanship was unmistakable and she can bet her all that this was the work of Aurora—the renowned designer.

One glance was all she needed to know who had placed it there. A small smile tugged at her lips.

"His imagination really runs high, does this stand as an apology or a present?" she mused.

Her gaze drifted to the clock on the bedside table, it’s almost time to leave for the dinner—her first appearance and attendance to the Allen family gathering. She felt wary. This might not be a simple dinner. "I just hope Davis handles this well".

A gentle tap on the door reminded her of Davis still at the door, she spurned on her feet and opened the door. Her hands akimbo "Mr. Davis, the gown you prepared is it an apology or gift?"

Davis was stumped, he didn’t expect this to be the question. He didn’t really think about what it is, he only felt it will suit her body and colour. He averted his gaze, Jessica returned to the room picked up the dress and dumped it on his lap.

"Think it through", she said and walked into the room they both share.

Davis remained at the same spot lost as he looked at the dress. After a while he sighed and wheeled himself into the room at the same time Jessica emerged from the bathroom drying her hair with towel.

Slowly, she ruffled her damp hair before shaking it loose, letting the waves tumble down. Davis was enchanted by the sight before him—her long legs, fair skin, and cascading wavy hair, flowing like a shimmering waterfall as it glistened against the light.

Perceiving the intense gaze behind her, Jessica slowly turned around and their gaze locked.

Davis slowly averted his gaze, his heart racing non-stop. "Am sorry" he muttered.

"Sorry about what?" Jessica smirked. It’s so funny seeing him at loss of words. It was clear to her he only bought the dress at impulse and had not really thought about anything.

"Anyway, I don’t know but taking the number without informing you is an overstep, so I apologize". Davis finished in one breath.

Jessica smiled lightly "About the family dinner?"

Davis looked at her with a probing gaze, he didn’t understand what she meant.

"I mean, are you comfortable going?" Jessica asked. She didn’t want to pressure him but it is pertinent he takes each step with a decision of his own.

"Even if I don’t want to go, it is necessary for you to meet the Allen family properly and this meal will serve that purpose." He answered lightly.

This meeting is bound to happen one day and rather than take a long time, it’s better to make it happen now.

Jessica nodded in understanding, then took the dress she had dropped on him—still held in his hands—and stepped into the walk-in closet.

Inside the walk-in closet, Jessica exhaled slowly, running her fingers over the smooth fabric of the dress, a faint smile on her lips.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, and she stepped out—her figure elegantly draped in the dress, fitting her like a second skin. Davis, who had been absently scrolling through his phone, glanced up—and his grip tightened ever so slightly, only one word occured to him ~Breathtaking~.