Chapter 4

Willow's words drained every trace of celebration from the room.

My parents had cared about face their whole lives.

Right now their faces were awful to look at.

They'd agreed to every one of Willow's demands.

Even the night before the wedding, when she'd shown up at the house making a scene and hiking the bride-price at the last minute, they'd swallowed it.

They just never expected she'd humiliate our whole family in front of everyone today.

Even the emcee, worn down by her jabs, didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and there was pity in the way he looked at me.

"Mr. Gilbert, about this... the bride isn't following the script. Should we...?"

I waved him off and turned to Willow.

"Do you really have to do this?"

She said it like she was annoyed.

"It's not that I have to. The emcee's questions are just childish. We swap rings and it's done. Why make it such a hassle?"

I looked at my parents down below the stage.

My clenched fist loosened, and I said to the emcee,

"Since the bride doesn't like it, skip all the rest of the steps. Just start the banquet."

He gave an awkward smile.

"All right."

The whole sequence we'd planned next, the ceremonial toast to the in-laws, the moment we'd call them Mom and Dad, all of it was scrapped.

I went straight back to my seat and ate with my head down.

Without those rituals, the wedding had lost its soul.

That night, when everything had gone quiet.

In the wedding suite, it was just me and Willow.

I finished my shower and was about to head to the bedroom.

But Willow had been sitting on the living room couch the whole time, scrolling on her phone, smiling at it now and then.

I couldn't help asking her,

"It's late. Time to sleep?"

She seemed to have known all along that I'd tell her to go to bed.

She put down her phone at once, her face cold as she spoke.

"Don't taint me with those filthy thoughts of yours, understand?"

I asked,

"It's our wedding night, and I told you to go to bed. How is that filthy?"

"You think I don't know what you men are all thinking?"

Her voice came out icy. "It's that one thing you want, isn't it?"

"Martin Gilbert, let me make this clear today. I, Willow Henson, am childfree. I won't be your leftover tool."

"We may be married, but that kind of thing, don't even dream about it."

"And I'm a germophobe. Don't expect to lay a finger on me. From now on, we sleep in separate rooms."

Looking at that cold face of hers.

My heart dropped into an icy pit.

So much so that I forgot I was still holding the cup I'd been drinking from.

Crash. The cup hit the floor.

Only then did I come back to myself.

A shard of glass scraped the skin on my foot, and it bled.

"Be more careful, would you? You're a grown man. Do you still need someone to look after you?"

Willow acted as if she hadn't seen I was hurt, leaning back on the couch and going right back to her phone.

I cleaned the wound and the mess on the floor.

Without another word, I went to the room and turned off the light.

A long while later, after I heard Willow go into the other room and shut the door, I opened Instagram again and pulled up that account.

【Refusing a cookie-cutter wedding starts with me!】

【Who says you have to sleep with your husband on the wedding night? I'm saying NO to these gross old customs!】

I tapped in, and she'd laid out in detail everything that had happened at the wedding today.

Most of the comments underneath were behind her.

"Good for you. I've hated weddings like that for ages."

"Right? Why should we hand ourselves over to a man on the wedding night? It's like some unfair fine print."

"Willow did amazing. So satisfying!"

"Willow, you have to keep it up. We'll be following you, waiting for your updates."

Reading all of it, I only felt how bitterly absurd it was.

Early the next morning, it was already eight when I got up, and Willow still hadn't risen.

The house was quiet enough to hear my own breathing.

It was as if nothing about this home had changed since before the wedding.

No extra person in it, and none of the particular warmth that made a place a home.

If that was the case, what was the point of this marriage even existing?

Just to give Willow something to show off on Instagram?

I took out my phone and called my mother.

"Mom, I want to divorce her."

Willow appeared behind me, I didn't know when.

"Who? Who wants a divorce?"