The day Jean dreaded finally arrived, and as she woke up that morning, her mouth tasted bitter, and a deep part of her mind told her that it wasn’t going to be a good day.
Jean already knew that much, since the day she had agreed to do Jeff’s bidding and marry Michael.
The thought of leaving Jeff behind and going to live with a stranger was heart-shattering, and she desperately did not want to do it, but she had no choice now; she had already agreed to it.
All that was left was to go over to Michael and inform him of her decision, but she had a feeling that he already knew what her answer would be.
As Jean stood under the shower, she brought her finger to her face and inspected the pretty ring that was situated there.
Jean had always known that she and Jeff were meant to be together for life, and she knew that even if he did not propose to her or they did not have an official wedding, it would not matter because they loved each other and would be together forever.
But he had taken it upon himself to reassure her that his love for her was genuine, and the thought brought a smile to her face, as well as tears to her eyes.
She would miss him.
They had spent the whole of the previous night cuddling, with Jeff whispering sweet words to her and telling her how much he hated the plan but how it was something they had to do if they wanted any hope of leaving the country and their shitty lives behind.
Jean stepped out of the shower and moved over to the tiny wardrobe she shared with Jeff.
She rummaged through her clothes and ultimately ended up wearing faded blue baggy jeans and an oversized black sweatshirt, despite knowing that she would boil in the clothes.
But it was a necessary sacrifice.
She would make herself unappealing to Michael, because she had no doubt in her mind that he had no other use for her than as a sex slave, and the marriage was simply a formality on his part, so that he could have his way with her whenever he wanted.
That piece of information made Jean tremble with fear, and she almost changed her mind, but Jeff wasn’t around.
He’d left very early, saying he had important business to attend to, and if he were to return and find out that she had changed her mind, he would be furious.
Jean did not want Jeff angry at her, so after dressing, she placed her phone in her pocket, ruffled her hair a bit, and made her way out of the house.
* * * * * “My.
Marquez is waiting for you, Miss White.” The blonde secretary at the reception said to Jean before she had even opened her mouth, and that made Jean frown as she made her way to the elevator.
Jean was very aware of the amount of eyes and attention she was attracting as she moved through the lobby.
She knew she looked very out of place in an establishment like this, and she was glad of it; she could only hope that Michael—upon seeing her—would feel repulsed and send her away.
She scoffed at the impossibility of that.
Mere clothing could never stop men like Michael, men who would go to terrible lengths to own a woman and use her as they pleased.
Jean swallowed the huge lump in her throat as the elevator dinged and she stepped out into the large hallway she remembered so well from the last time.
This time, the secretary lady was at her desk, and she didn’t even spare Jean a glance as she walked over to her desk.
“Uhm… I… I’m here for… Mr.
Marquez asked that I come see him.” Jean fumbled with her words, and she felt her face grow hot with embarrassment as the secretary lady finally lifted her eyes to her, amused.
“Go on in.” She said and then returned to her work.
Jean gave a small appreciative nod before approaching the doors to Michael’s office.
Her heart was already at her throat and was pounding so loudly she wondered if the secretary could hear it.
“He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” The secretary announced, which caused Jean to startle.
She’d been standing there, hand on the knob, for a few minutes, just staring into space.
“I… I’m sorry.” Jean stammered and then pushed the door open before she could embarrass herself any further.
The office was just the same way Jean remembered from her last visit, which was a week ago.
The couch was arranged the same way, and it did not look like a single book on the shelves had been touched, but they still looked sparkling clean and dust-free.
Not much has changed at all.
The only difference, however, was that when she stepped into the office the last time, Michael Marquez had been at his desk.
This time, he stood directly in front of her, his blue eyes peering deep into her brown eyes, as though he could see directly into her soul.
Startled to find him so close, Jean took a step back.
Michael had a smirk on his face as he took in her appearance.
Rough, uncombed hair, college-girl kind of dressing, worn-out sneakers, she looked wretched.
“You look very nice,” Michael said, raising himself to his full height, so that he now towered over her.
Jean had her back pressed against the door, her heart racing as though she was being chased by an animal.
“Uh… thank you.” She said, then shook her head, trying to organize her thoughts.
She hadn’t meant to say that.
Michael let out a small scoff.
“I assume you’ve come here to tell me of your decision regarding my… offer?” Jean gave a slight nod.
“What will it be then?
I haven’t got all day.” He said, very relaxed and calm, as if he knew every thought in Jean’s mind.
Jean contemplated telling him how she would not accept his offer, so she could see the arrogance wiped off his face.
“I… uhm… we… Jeff and I have decided that we’ll… I mean, I will marry you,” Jean stammered, feeling mortified.
“If that’s what you still want.” She whispered.
How has my life come to this?
Jean wondered, her head down and eyes staring at a spot on the rug.
“Well, let me be the first to kiss the blushing bride,” Jean heard Michael say, and before she could process his words, his finger was on her chin, guiding her head up, and then his lips came crashing into hers.