A Marriage Without Love
Thomas married Emily out of spite, to prove to his former love that her betrayal hadn’t broken him. He and Charlotte had been together nearly three years. His love for her had driven him mad—he would’ve laid the world at her feet just to see her smile. Thomas dreamed of a wedding, but Charlotte cooled his passion. “Why rush? I haven’t finished university yet, and your business is barely surviving. No proper car, no home of our own. Living with your sister in that tiny flat? No thanks, I won’t share a kitchen with Sophie, even if she is my friend.”
Her words stung, but Thomas knew she was right. He and Sophie were squeezed into their parents’ old flat in Manchester, struggling to keep the family business afloat after their parents’ death. He’d dropped out of uni to save it. They sold their country house together—business came first. Within six months, the debts piled up; both were still students—him in his final year, Sophie in her second. The sale settled the debts, restocked the shop, and left a small reserve. But Charlotte lived for the moment, refusing to wait. Her parents gave her an easy life, while Thomas, suddenly the family’s provider, saw the future differently. He believed he’d turn things around—there’d be a house, a car.
Then disaster struck. Thomas waited for Charlotte outside the cinema, as they’d agreed on the phone. She’d told him not to pick her up, which was odd—she hated buses. He scanned the crowd, then watched her pull up in a sleek SUV. “Sorry, we’re done. I’m getting married,” she said, shoving a book into his hands before vanishing into the car. He stood frozen, disbelieving. How had everything changed in just two days—his short business trip?
Sophie took one look at him and understood. “You found out?” He nodded. “She found herself a rich bloke. Wedding’s on the 28th. Asked me to be a bridesmaid—I refused. Nasty piece of work! She was sneaking around behind your back.” Sophie burst into tears, furious for her brother. “Don’t cry,” Thomas hugged her. “Let her have her life—ours will be better.”
He locked himself in his room all day. Sophie knocked. “At least eat, I made pancakes.” By evening, he emerged, eyes blazing. “Get ready.” “What’s your plan?” “I’m marrying the first woman who says yes.” Sophie tried to reason with him. “You can’t do this—you’re ruining someone else’s life too!” But he wouldn’t budge. “Come with me or I’ll go alone.”
The city park was crowded. One woman laughed at his proposal, another recoiled, but the third met his gaze and said, “Yes.” “What’s your name, love?” “Emily,” she replied. Thomas dragged her and Sophie to a café to celebrate their “engagement.” Silence hung over the table. Sophie said nothing; Thomas seethed with revenge. He decided—their wedding would be the same day as Charlotte’s.
“Is there a reason you proposed to a stranger?” Emily asked quietly. “If it’s just a whim, I’ll leave—no hard feelings.” “No, you gave your word. Tomorrow we file the paperwork and visit your parents,” Thomas cut in, winking. “Let’s drop the formalities!”
In the month before the wedding, they met daily, learning about each other. “Explain why,” Emily pressed once. “Some secrets are best kept,” he deflected. “Why did *you* say yes?” “I imagined myself a princess married off to the first stranger. In fairy tales, that ends happily. I wanted to test it.”
The truth was messier. Emily had loved and lost, her heart and savings shattered. It taught her to read people. Flattery got men nowhere with her. She wasn’t hunting for “the one,” but she wanted someone sharp and decisive. In Thomas, she saw strength and seriousness. If he’d been with mates instead of his sister, she’d have walked right past.
“What kind of princess are you? Sleeping Beauty or Guinevere?” Thomas mused. “Kiss me and find out,” Emily teased. But there were no kisses. Thomas planned the wedding alone; Emily merely chose from his options. He even bought her dress himself, insisting, “You’ll be the most beautiful.”
At the registry office, they ran into Charlotte and her fiancé. Thomas forced a smile. “Congratulations,” he kissed Charlotte’s cheek. “Be happy with your tycoon.” “Don’t make a scene,” she snapped. She sized up Emily—tall, striking, regal. Charlotte felt like she’d lost. Jealousy gnawed at her; happiness slipped away, as if she’d bet on the wrong horse.
“Everything’s fine,” Thomas lied to Emily. “It’s not too late to back out,” she whispered. “No, we’ll see this through,” he said. But in the ceremony room, staring into his new wife’s sad eyes, he realized the pain he’d caused. “I’ll make you happy,” he promised, meaning it.
Married life began. Sophie and Emily became close, leaning on each other. Hot-tempered Sophie learned restraint; Emily, with her economist’s mind, streamlined the business. Within a year, they opened a second shop, then launched renovation crews. Profits tripled. Emily, like a modern-day Cinderella, pitched ideas so well Thomas claimed them as his own. Life seemed perfect—yet his heart ached. The fire he’d felt with Charlotte was gone. Everything was steady, predictable. “Just routine,” he thought. “I don’t love her, that’s all.”
Emily took the business further—they began building houses. Their first project was their own mansion. The more success he had, the more Thomas dwelled on Charlotte. “She couldn’t wait. If only she saw my car, my home!” The thought *what if…* nagged him. Emily saw him fading. She tried to win his love, but hearts can’t be forced. “Not all fairy tales come true,” she thought bitterly, but she persevered—her name demanded it.
Sophie noticed too. “You’ll lose more than you gain,” she snapped, catching him on Charlotte’s social media. “Shut it!” he growled. “Idiot! Emily *loves* you, and you’re still playing games!” Sophie shouted. Thomas fumed. “Who are you to lecture me?” His obsession with Charlotte grew. He messaged her.
Charlotte complained—her husband had thrown her out. She’d dropped out of uni, had no job, and was renting a dingy room in Leeds. Thomas wavered. Should he go? Emily was away for a week, visiting an ill aunt in the countryside. Temptation won. He arranged a meeting.
Flying to Leeds, he was giddy, imagining their reunion. Reality hit hard. “Handsome!” Charlotte threw her arms around him. The stench of unwashed skin and cheap perfume made him recoil. A too-short skirt, garish makeup—she was a shadow of the woman he’d loved. “People are staring,” he muttered, pushing her off. “Who cares?” She cackled, chugging beer. “Give me money, and I’ll make it worth your while,” she winked. Thomas searched for an exit. “Work calls,” he said, standing. “See you again?” she whined. “Doubt it.” He paid, leaving cash for her “fun.”
Driving home, he cursed himself. “Idiot! Sophie was right. Why did I go?” But one thought comforted him. “I’ve never even called my wife Em. She’s my closest friend.” It hit him then. He slammed the brakes, replaying their marriage. Emily’s face filled his mind—her green eyes, warm smile, slender fingers threading through his hair. “I promised her happiness,” he whispered.
Turning the car around, he sped to her aunt’s house. “A week without you is too long. I couldn’t last two days,” he said as Emily ran to him. “Madman,” she smiled through tears. “Em, my love,” Thomas murmured, and their hearts beat as one, full at last.
