The Surprise Vows: Marrying the Man Who Took Me In

At fourteen, my family suffered a tragic accident, and my fiancs family took me in.

Carter Hayes was seven years older than me. He was always polite, yet distinctly distant.

When I started working and was preparing to move into my own apartment, he suddenly spoke up: You're twenty-four now. It's about time we got married.

Walking out of the courthouse, my brain was still buzzing.

Just like that, we were married.

Living under the same roof for eight years, Carters attitude toward me had always been polite, maybe even a little aloof. I was actually a bit intimidated by him, always treating him with the cautious respect you'd give a strict older brother.

I always assumed the "engagement" arranged by our parents years ago was just a joke. Add in the fact that my family had lost everything and the massive disparity in our social statuses, and I never took it seriously.

The night before I was supposed to move out, Carter suddenly knocked on my bedroom door. His eyes were calm, his voice cool: "You're twenty-four now. It's about time we got married."

I froze, then dumbly nodded.

"Are you free this Wednesday? Let's go to the courthouse."

I pressed my lips together, speechless.

"You don't have to reject me right away. I can give you a week to think about it."

"I'm free," I blurted out.

After he closed the door, it took me a long time to process what had just happened.

It was absolutely insane.

But thinking about it logically, Carter was the perfect catch: handsome, constantly in the gym, financially secure, and emotionally stable.

It was just that I had never viewed our relationship in that light before, and I couldn't switch roles in my head that fast.

Getting the marriage license felt rushed, and we hadn't even told his parents yet.

"Can we wait a little while before telling your mom and dad about this?" I asked. "I just started a new job and I'm really overwhelmed. I don't think I can handle the family drama right now."

"That's fine," he said. "But I'm keeping the marriage certificate."

"Thank you."

Carter went to get the car, and I stood on the sidewalk waiting. When we signed the papers, a promotional health booth outside the courthouse had handed us a goodie bag. I hadn't checked what was inside.

Opening it now, I found ten boxes of condoms and three bottles of prenatal vitamins.

My face instantly burned scarlet. The bag suddenly felt like it was on fire.

There was a trash can nearby, and I marched over, ready to toss it. If Mr. and Mrs. Hayes saw this at home, I wouldn't be able to explain it to save my life.

"What are you throwing away? That's a waste."

Carter had pulled the car up without me noticing. He stepped out and opened the passenger door, startling me so badly I dropped the bag on the pavement.

Carter leaned down and picked up the boxes. His Adams apple bobbed slightly as his voice dropped an octave: "I'll keep these at my downtown apartment. Get in the car."

The air grew thick with awkwardness.

I coughed lightly and nodded.

Sitting in the passenger seat, I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. My face was as red as a tomato.

I silently gave myself a pep talk: You're married now. Some things are bound to happen eventually. Stop being a prude.

When we pulled into the driveway of the Hayes estate, he didn't get out.

"Aren't you coming in?" I asked.

Ever since graduating college, Carter had lived in his own luxury apartment and rarely stayed at the family estate.

"I need to head back to change clothes. I'll be over this afternoon."

Carter was dressed in a sharp black suit today. To match him, I had deliberately worn a white dress this morning. We looked like we were wearing matching couple outfits.

"Okay, see you later then."

I was so anxious last night that I barely slept, so I ended up napping all afternoon before finally heading downstairs.

Carter was already back, sitting in the living room playing chess with his dad, Mr. Hayes.

Hearing my footsteps, he looked up.

Our eyes met. Staring into his deep, dark eyes, I felt a sudden wave of guilt and softly called out, "Hey."

Carter gave a faint nod, looked away, and went back to his chess game.

I went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, but Mrs. Hayes stopped me: "Harper, honey! Come have some fruit."

"I bought your absolute favorite: blue cheese and crackers."

Mr. Hayes chimed in from the living room, "Doesn't your son absolutely despise the smell of blue cheese? Why did you buy so much of it today? We'll never finish it."

"Didn't you say it was your favorite? I bought it specifically for you," she shot back.

"Nonsense. You can't even remember my favorite dessert. Harper is the only one in this house who actually likes that stinky cheese."

Maybe I was just too nervous, but when I took a bite of the cheese, I couldn't taste a thing. I was terrified Mrs. Hayes would notice something was off.

"Harper, are you seeing anyone lately?"

Like clockwork, the older generation always had to check in on my love life.

"You should start putting yourself out there. Don't spend all your time focused on work. Don't end up like Carterhe's in his thirties and doesn't even have a girlfriend."

I nodded, offering a polite, noncommittal smile.

"Come look at these guys. I picked out a few handsome young men at the gala last week. Good-looking, great personalitieswhatever your type is, I've got it."

From the living room, Carters gaze drifted over.

I avoided his eyes, picking up my glass to take a tactical sip of water.

Mrs. Hayes smiled warmly. "It's a shame Carter is so old and always has that icy look on his face. He doesn't know how to treat a woman right. If only you two could be together, that would be perfect."

Cough, cough!

My hand shook, and I nearly choked on my water.

Mrs. Hayes quickly patted my back. "Oh, don't be scared! I'm just joking around. I'd never force you to marry that grumpy brat."

"Now, do any of these guys catch your eye?" She shoved a stack of photos into my hands.

Suddenly, Carter stood up from the chessboard. His voice was perfectly even: "What do you want for dinner? I'll cook."

But as he spoke, his eyes were locked dead on me.

I quickly lowered my gaze, pretending to study the photos of the blind dates.

Carter was an incredible cook. The spread of garlic butter shrimp, creamy corn chowder, slow-roasted beef brisket, and roasted asparagus was enough to make anyones mouth water.

Following our usual seating arrangement, Carter sat directly across from me.

I usually ate like a vacuum cleaner, but today I found myself subconsciously acting demure, taking small, elegant bites.

I was so focused on eating my rice that I forgot to grab any of the main dishes.

My favorite corn chowder was sitting a bit too far away. I glanced at it several times, but after hesitating, I didn't want to stand up and reach for it.

"Harper, you're barely eating today," Mrs. Hayes noted.

"I'm just not very hungry tonight."

Carter seemed to read my mind perfectly. He ladled a bowl of the corn chowder and placed it right in front of me.

"You haven't touched the soup. Drink up. It won't taste as good tomorrow."

My spine stiffened.

His parents didn't notice anything unusual, continuing their conversation about some neighbor's new grandchild.

I let out a long breath and whispered, "Thank you."

Because I didn't eat enough at dinner, I woke up in the middle of the night starving.

I grabbed my phone, turned on the flashlight, and tiptoed down to the kitchen to raid the fridge.

There were only leftovers and raw ingredients. I sighed and prepared to head back to my room.

Suddenly, there was someone standing right behind me.

Carter had clearly just showered. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a matching t-shirt, his damp black hair falling over his forehead, his eyes dark and deep.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I patted my chest to calm down. "Jeez, you scared me."

"Didn't eat enough at dinner?"

"A little."

He pursed his lips. "Go wait in your room. I'll heat up some tortellini."

I went back upstairs, used the bathroom, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was a bird's nest, and my pajamas were wrinkled.

I had worn this oversized cartoon t-shirt for all three years of grad school. It was faded, and the collar was stretched out. I loved the character on it, so I never threw it away.

Mrs. Hayes would occasionally buy me new clothes, so I dug through my closet, found a brand-new silk pajama set, and changed into it.

Looking in the mirror again, I looked much cleaner and far more put-together.

A knock sounded at the door. I walked over and opened it.

"Hey."

He gave a soft "Mhm," his gaze lingering on my body for a fraction of a second before quickly looking away.

I reached out to take the bowl from him.

"It's hot. I'll carry it," he said.

Carter set the bowl on my desk and handed me a fork. "I'm flying to Paris tomorrow for a business trip. Is there anything you want me to bring back?"

I sat down, shoved a piece of tortellini into my mouth, and mumbled, "Nope."

The pasta was literally steaming. The moment I bit down, it felt like the roof of my mouth was peeling off. I winced in agony.

But with Carter standing right there, my pride wouldn't let me spit it out. I just sat there, panicking about whether to swallow molten lava or spit it out like a toddler.

"Spit it out."

Long, elegant fingers offered me a tissue.

I froze, staring at him with teary, confused eyes.

"Spit it out. No one is going to steal your food."

I wanted to defend myself, but swallowed my words and spit the pasta into the tissue.

Carter grabbed another tissue and roughly wiped my face.

My defensive instincts flared. "What are you doing?"

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. "You had drool on your chin."

My face instantly burned bright red, but at least it wasn't a runny nose.

Carter sighed, his voice softening unconsciously. "Harper, you don't need to be so tense."

I swallowed hard, looking up at him. "Is it really that obvious?"

I felt like I had been acting neurotic all day, terrified his parents would find out. And whenever I faced Carter, there was a subtle, bizarre shift in my brain that made me act totally unnatural.

He nodded.

"Like when?"

"Usually you eat two bowls of rice at dinner. Tonight you only ate half a bowl..."

"..."

My cheeks felt like they were on fire. "I just... I just need a little time to adjust."

His voice was slow and steady: "Take all the time you need."

As he was about to close the door and leave, he paused. "Did you change into new pajamas?"

I bit my lip. "My old ones got a little wet."

"They look good on you."

When I came down for breakfast the next morning, Carter was already gone.

His business trip was going to last two weeks. Combine that with how incredibly busy I was at my new job, and I practically forgot I was a married woman.

Friday evening, my coworkers dragged me out for drinks. Someone handed me a cocktail, and after downing it, my face flushed bright red.

Walking home, I couldn't stop scratching my face and neck. I felt impossibly itchy and uncomfortable.

I had rushed out the door this morning and forgotten my keys.

I rang the doorbell, and the door swung open.

A tall figure stood in the entryway. The top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and his face was sharp and handsome.

I was completely stunned. My brain short-circuited.

Why was Carter answering the door at this hour?

Wasn't he on a business trip? Even when he was in town, he rarely stayed at the estate.

"Carter?" I asked awkwardly.

He nodded, looking down at me. "Have you been drinking?"

I nodded, my voice a little raspy. "Just one drink."

My neck was so itchy it was begging to be scratched.

His expression instantly turned serious, his tone dropping. "Don't you know you have an alcohol allergy?"

I shook my head. I had barely ever touched alcohol. In college, I took one sip of cheap beer, hated the taste, and spit it out.

Just as I reached up to scratch my neck, he grabbed my wrist. His voice was heavy. "You're going to scar your face."

"Go wash your face with cold water to bring the temperature down. I'll go find some antihistamines."

I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw an unnatural red flush across my cheeks, and a massive red rash spreading across my collarbone.

Because I had been scratching so aggressively earlier, I had actually broken the skin in a few places. Thank God it wasn't on my face.

He walked into the bathroom holding a pill and a glass of water, plus a tube of hydrocortisone cream.

"Swallow this first. Then apply this cream to stop the itching."

I was wearing a button-up blouse today. To make it easier to apply the cream, I unbuttoned the top two buttons, exposing a large patch of skin.

His eyes darkened, and he politely turned his back to me.

Once the cream was on, the itching subsided significantly. I buttoned up my shirt and straightened my collar.

My voice was a little dry when I asked, "When did you get back?"

"I flew in this afternoon. I texted you."

I frowned.

He texted me? Why didn't I get a notification?

I checked my phone and realized it was on 'Do Not Disturb'.

I had a million work messages, and Carters text was buried near the bottom, easy to miss.

"I was so busy I forgot to check my phone."

"Are you still feeling sick?"

"I'm okay, it's not too bad."

Silence fell, and the atmosphere grew incredibly awkward.

He looked exhausted, his voice slightly gravelly: "Get some rest. If anything happens tonight, come find me. Your gift is on your desk."

My tone softened unconsciously. "Thank you. You get some rest too."

Carter's eyes darkened, and he gave a soft "Mhm."

The allergic reaction wasn't actually that bad, and by the time I woke up the next morning, it was completely gone.

I had been so tired last night that I completely forgot to open the gift on my desk.

Opening it now, I found a stunning evening gown that could also pass for upscale everyday wear, but it was incredibly eye-catching.

There was also a necklace, a watch, and some other jewelry.

I picked out the watch and strapped it to my wrist. The dial was a soft baby blue that complemented my skin tone perfectly.

I opened my bedroom door just as the door across the hall clicked open.

Carter was wearing a sharp, dark brown suit over a light blue dress shirt. His broad shoulders and tailored fit were enough to make anyone weak in the knees.

His voice was cool and even: "Feeling better? Any lingering symptoms?"

"I'm all good."

He glanced down at my wrist. I instinctively hid my hand behind my back.

Carter didn't say anything and just turned back into his room.

...

Breakfast was already prepared. I sat at the dining table, taking small bites of my oatmeal.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Carter came down and sat directly across from me, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Mr. Hayes and Carter were discussing company business when Mr. Hayes suddenly changed the subject: "That watch you're wearing looks awfully similar to Harper's. I've never seen you wear it before."

My heart rate spiked, and I shot a panicked glance across the table.

It wasn't just "similar." It was the exact same watch in a different size.

Carter looked completely unfazed, his voice perfectly calm: "I've had it for a while."

I stammered through an explanation: "Uh, a friend of mine brought this back for me from Europe... I must have just accidentally bought the same one Carter has."

Mr. Hayes didn't pry any further.

Terrified that staying any longer would blow our cover, I grabbed my purse and spoke in a rushed tone. "Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, I'm going to be late for work! I've gotta run."

"Harper, have Carter drive you!"

"No, no! I'll just take my Vespa, it's faster!"

After graduation, the Hayes family had gifted me a car, but even though I had my license, I was terrified of driving. It sat in the garage collecting dust, and I commuted on a little electric Vespa. It was super convenient.