CHAPTER 5: LET'S GET MARRIED

FLORENCE'S POV

I left for my place a while later. And I was barely through my front door when my phone rang.

I frowned at the screen. Aunt Sarah.

We rarely spoke. Actually, we never spoke.

Unease settled over me as I answered.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Then a sharp inhale.

"You heartless bitch."

I flinched. "What?"

"You killed him!" she shrieked.

My stomach plummeted. "Killed who?"

"Your father!"

The phone nearly slipped from my grasp.

I swallowed hard, shaking my head as if she could see me. "No… No, that’s not—"

"He’s dead, Florence!" she spat. "And you were the last person to see him alive!"

The room tilted.

I felt like I had been punched in the gut.

No. No, no.

My father? Dead?

My only family. My only anchor. Gone?

"You’re lying," I whispered.

"You think I’d joke about this?" Her voice wavered, but there was venom beneath it. "He dropped dead after seeing you. What the hell did you do to him?"

"I—" My breath caught. "I didn’t do anything!"

"Then why is he dead?!" she screamed. "You show up in town, and suddenly he’s gone?!"

Tears burned my eyes. "I—I don’t know!"

Sarah let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you don’t. You ruin everything, don’t you? You ruined your husband’s life, and now you killed your father!"

My heart cracked.

I couldn’t breathe.

"Stay the hell away from the funeral," she snapped. "You don’t deserve to be there."

The line went dead.

I stood frozen, phone still pressed to my ear.

My vision blurred.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

I stumbled back, hitting the wall.

Air. I needed air.

I needed…

I grabbed my coat and bolted out the door.

…

I sat at the counter, staring at the glass in front of me.

The whiskey burned my throat, but I welcomed the pain.

I wasn’t thinking.

I didn’t want to think.

"Another," I muttered.

The bartender raised a brow. "You sure?"

"Did I stutter?"

He shrugged, pouring me another.

I downed it in one go.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing would be enough.

I had lost everything.

My husband. My home. My father.

And now I was being blamed for his death.

My stomach churned.

I shoved the glass away and stood.

The room spun.

I staggered toward the door.

The cold air hit me like a slap, but it did nothing to sober me up.

I wandered aimlessly until I reached the park.

Collapsing onto a bench, I buried my face in my hands.

"Rough night?"

I froze.

That voice.

I slowly turned my head.

And there he was.

The stranger.

My savior.

His piercing blue eyes studied me.

Of all the places in this damn city, I had ended up here. With him.

Again.

I let out a shaky laugh. "Of course, it’s you."

He said nothing.

I slumped against the bench, staring at the sky.

"I lost my father today."

Silence.

"I’m sorry."

I scoffed. "Are you?"

He didn’t respond.

I let out a bitter chuckle. "It doesn’t even feel real. One minute, I’m running from my past, and the next—" My voice broke. "The only person I had left is gone."

Still, he said nothing.

It made it easier to keep talking.

"You know," I started, my words slurring slightly, "I used to believe in love. In marriage. In forever." I scoffed. "What a joke."

He didn’t respond, just watched me with those piercing blue eyes, waiting.

"I was married. My husband, up till two months ago," I continued, my voice heavy with emotion, "lied to me for years. Years." I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "We were together for so damn long. I cooked for him. Cleaned. Loved him. Worshiped him like he was the only man in the world. And what did I get in return?"

I let out a shaky breath.

"A fucking cheater! That’s what I got."

Mr stranger's jaw tightened, but he stayed silent.

My breath hitched. "I stabbed him." I said and looked at my stranger.

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t look shocked.

"He didn’t die," I added quickly. "I think….I don’t know. I ran. I ran because I couldn’t believe it." I swallowed hard. "And now I’m here. Alone."

I rubbed my hands over my face, my throat tight with tears. Or was it the alcohol?

"And boom! News of the century, I lost my father today. My best friend..."

I just kept on rambling.

"He was the one that even adviced me to come here, gave me an apartment. "And now he’s gone. Dead." U sobbed

Mr stranger let out a breath.

"What happened?"

I let out a dry, humourless laugh.

"I don’t know."

He stayed silent.

"My step-aunt called me," I explained. "Screaming. Crying. Accusing me of killing him." I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

He adjusted himself amd studied me carefully.

"I don’t even know what happened," I admitted. "He was fine when I saw him. He hugged me. Smiled at me. Told me to take care of myself." My vision blurred. "And now I’ll never see him again."

Silence hung between us.

I turned my head to the stranger, blinking away tears. "So, yeah." I forced a shaky smile. "That’s my life. A complete and utter disaster. It felt good letting this off my chest."

He sighed.

I turned to look at him, my vision hazy from alcohol.

"Why aren’t you saying anything?"

He leaned back, watching me. "You needed to talk."

I blinked.

Of all the responses, that was the last thing I expected.

I let out another broken laugh.

"You’re weird."

He tilted his head slightly.

This dude likes tilting, what does he think he is? Badass?

"Jason. My name is Jason" he said and my eyes moved to his lips. Pink and succulent looking.

I could kis—shut up, florence.

Jason. Hmm

It suited him.

I leaned closer. "Jason."

He raised a brow.

And I leaned in even closer, he doesn't lean away, he just studies me, my eyes focus on his lips.

I couldn't help it, I went in for a small peck, he didn't move.

I lingered there for a while until he eventually kissed me back, but just when he was about snaking his arm around my waist, I pulled away. Looking at his electric blue eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, I blurted—

"Well Jason… let's get married..."