What do you mean she isn't here yet?" Mateo asked, his voice sharp over the phone. He had been pacing near the same seaside chapel where Sophia had sat earlier, her tears still fresh in his mind.
The doctors had told him that his abuela had only two weeks left. She was frail, but her mind was sharp as ever. Her wish was clear: she wanted to see him married before she passed, so the Calder empire would remain firmly in the family's hands.
Mateo had lied. He had told his abuela he had a fiancée, someone to marry him before her time ran out. He hadn't expected she'd insist on seeing the wedding happen immediately.
His abuela believed in legacy. She believed in bloodlines. She had raised him after his parents died, shaping him into the man the world respected. And now, he owed her everything. He couldn't disappoint her—not when she had already given him so much.
His assistant, Luis, had suggested a contract marriage service: a bride for hire, temporary, no strings attached. Mateo had signed the papers. He was supposed to marry a stranger, present her to his abuela, and after a year, they would separate amicably. A formality. A transaction. Nothing more.
And yet, now the bride was nowhere to be found.
"She's unreachable," Luis said through the phone. "Her agency can't get her. They said to reschedule. They'll send someone else."
Mateo's jaw tightened. Rescheduling was not an option. Time was slipping, and he couldn't afford a delay.
"I'm not leaving here without a marriage certificate," he said, his tone calm but firm. There was no anger in his voice, only purpose.
Luis sighed. "Yes, sir. I'll call again. I'll do everything I can."
Mateo ended the call, staring out at the ocean. The breeze tugged lightly at his suit, ruffling the edges of his perfectly tailored jacket. He didn't feel desperation. He didn't feel fear. He felt responsibility—a promise he had to keep.
And then, a voice.
"I'll marry you."
Mateo turned sharply.
Sophia stood there. Her veil was crooked, strands of hair clinging to her tear-streaked face. Her bouquet was gone. Her eyes were red, yet they held a quiet steadiness.
"I'll marry you," she said again, her voice low but certain.
Mateo studied her. Why would she offer this? A stranger, yet she stood here as if fate had guided her steps.
"You don't know me," he said, cautiously.
"You don't know me either," she replied.
She stepped forward, just a little—not too close, but close enough to show her intention.
"You need a bride," she said. "And I don't have a groom anymore."
Her words weren't shaky. She wasn't pleading. She wasn't running. She was choosing.
Mateo didn't speak. He simply observed her, taking in the courage it must have taken to offer herself for a marriage she had never expected.
"Do you understand this will be public?" he asked.
Sophia nodded.
"Do you understand this is a contract?" he pressed.
Again, she nodded.
"I'm not asking for love," she said quietly. "I just don't want to walk away from today with nothing."
Mateo understood that perfectly. They were both driven by their own heartbreaks, both standing in the shadow of disappointment.
He lifted his phone and called Luis again. "Bring the documents," he said.
"Yes, sir," Luis replied, and Mateo ended the call.
Neither of them smiled. They didn't need to. The sun glinted off the ocean, the breeze carrying the faint scent of salt and sand, and yet everything felt heavy with unspoken pain.
Side by side, strangers now bound by circumstance and necessity, they waited. Today was still a wedding. Just not the wedding either of them had ever imagined.
Mateo took a breath, adjusting his jacket. Sophia straightened her veil, hands trembling slightly. The chapel doors loomed behind them, a silent witness to this unexpected alliance.
For one fleeting moment, they both allowed themselves to feel the weight of what was happening—two hearts, broken and bruised, stepping into a union neither had planned, but both knew they couldn't walk away from.
The ceremony would happen. The contract would be signed. And somewhere beneath the crashing waves and swaying palms, a new story was beginning—one neither of them could yet predict.
Today was supposed to be a wedding.
And somehow, in the strangest of ways, it still was.