The day I went on a blind date, my ex-boyfriend and I ended up getting hitched. What I didn't expect was his real identity… 1 "Married? Ethan, what kind of joke is this!" "I'm not joking." Ethan looked up, his tone so calm you’d think he was just offering me a coffee. "Marry me. That's my proposal." I watched his handsome lips move, and damn it, I actually felt a flicker of temptation. Showing up for a blind date only to find your ex from years ago is crazy enough. But having that ex suddenly suggest a flash marriage? That’s like crazy inviting crazy’s mom over for Thanksgiving dinner! "What?" Ethan's tone shifted, a hint of sarcasm creeping in. "Right. Maybe Ms. Miller thinks she’s too good for me. After all, I’m broke." He really emphasized that last word, "broke." It hit me then. The reason I gave him when we broke up all those years ago? That he was broke. Ouch… shade. He was definitely throwing shade at me. That jab got under my skin. In a moment of heat, I said yes. And he didn't give me a second to reconsider. That same day, we went back to our respective places, grabbed the necessary documents, and headed straight to City Hall. Half an hour waiting in line, three minutes for the paperwork. Staring at the still-warm marriage certificate, I smugly sent a picture to my mom. I couldn't wait to see her reaction. Her daughter, impulsively married. To her ex, no less. Mom was weird, though. She'd disapproved of Ethan back then, but seeing the marriage certificate now, she was over the moon. Like she was just grateful someone finally took her daughter off her hands. So, round and round we went, and somehow, Ethan and I ended up 'together' again. We became one of those legendary couples who split everything fifty-fifty. 2 Life after getting married didn't seem much different than before. We each had our own room. He worked during the day, coming home late at night. We barely saw each other. I found out later that Ethan was now a surgeon. His job was demanding, keeping him busy constantly. Even that blind date, he’d apparently squeezed it in between shifts just to appease someone. He probably never expected the blind date would be me, either. These days, I'm a freelance writer, mostly churning out relationship drama for online platforms. Knowing how precise and focused a surgeon needs to be, I subconsciously tried to keep my late-night typing quieter. Not that Ethan would probably even hear it. Today was Thursday. I’d been writing until the wee hours, so I didn't crawl out of bed until noon. Stepping out of my room, I ran right into Ethan, who clearly hadn't gone to work. He was sitting on the sofa, immaculately dressed. A stark contrast to me, freshly woken, hair sticking out in every direction. My mouth opened, and I managed a dry, "Dr. Ross? No work today?" "Day off." And then… silence. Awkward, heavy silence. Ethan seemed to sense me staring. His gaze lifted from his book and landed on me. Oh, kill me now! I bolted for the bathroom. Maybe I imagined it, but I could have sworn I heard a low chuckle behind me. He was laughing at me! Later, for reasons unknown, Ethan decided he had to come with me when I needed to buy some clothes. A free driver? Sure, why not. But I seriously suspected he just wanted to show off that Mercedes he’d bought. On loan, no doubt! As far as I knew, both his condo and his car were financed up to the eyeballs. After making payments, his surgeon's salary probably left him with just a few thousand bucks for living expenses each month. That wasn't much different from my situation. What was there to brag about? Unless… unless he was like some romance novel hero, a secret billionaire! (Yeah, right.) 3 Today, the little indie website I wrote for was having its annual gala, and my editor specifically requested I attend. This was pretty much my first time attending such an event after years grinding away in the web fiction world, so naturally, I wanted to look decent. At the mall, I headed straight for the department store's clearance racks on the first floor, hoping to find a nice dress. Nothing too flashy, just understated and pretty. But Ethan insisted on dragging me up to the fifth floor, to the high-end designer boutiques. Standing in front of those clothes, my feet felt glued to the floor. The sales associate was super friendly at first, but when she realized I was just looking, not buying, her attitude did a complete 180. Her words dripped with condescending pity, suggesting the first-floor clearance section might be "more suitable," while also subtly mocking my taste. Before I could even open my mouth, Ethan stepped forward, his expression dark. "Whether she can afford it or not is my call." Damn! Hot! Okay, maybe it was just putting on a brave face, trying not to lose ground, but still! If the price tag was even remotely within my reach, I wouldn't mind splurging a little. The associate was clearly intimidated by Ethan's 'aura.' Thankfully, the store manager arrived just then, smoothing things over politely before leading me to a fitting room. When I stepped out, I felt like my whole presence just expanded. Damn, I looked good! Catching my reflection, I fought to keep the grin off my face. How could I be this gorgeous! But then… reality check. Seeing the manager chatting quietly with Ethan nearby, I casually asked, "How much is this dress?" The manager glanced at Ethan, then immediately smiled at me. "$150!" One fifty? If I remembered correctly, the boutiques on the fifth floor usually started at four figures, minimum. "We're having a special promotion right now, ma'am! Perfect timing!" Never look a gift horse in the mouth! With a grand wave of my hand, I declared, "I'll take it!" As I paid, I looked up and saw Ethan, hands shoved in his pockets, just watching me. His expression was… weird. 4 After buying the dress, it was almost time for the gala. Ethan and I went our separate ways. I called an Uber and headed straight to the hotel where the event was being held. On the way, I chatted in a group message with some other authors also attending. "Sarah, did you hear? The Rockwells are having an event at the same hotel!" "The Rockwells! Like, the richest family in the city!" I wasn't particularly interested. "Richest family booked the same hotel as our little indie site? Wouldn't they usually rent out the whole place?" I typed back. "You don't get it. They're being 'low-key'." I snorted. Yeah, real low-key, throwing a massive party. Just as my Uber pulled up, I saw a sleek Maybach parked nearby. A man in a perfectly tailored black suit stepped out, radiating an air of authority. I couldn't see his face, but judging by the way a group of young women nearby suddenly lit up, he had to be seriously handsome. Then I remembered my current marital status… Ah well, better not stare. It wasn't like anyone could compare to Ethan anyway. At least, Ethan's face was flawless. Our website's gala was in a smaller banquet hall, while the rumored Rockwell bash was in the grand ballroom upstairs. The authors hoping to catch a glimpse of the billionaire patriarch were visibly disappointed. I sat at my assigned table, listening to the writers around me whisper excitedly: "I hear the head of the family is gorgeous! Wish I could see him!" "All I know is the last name's Rockwell, first name is supposedly..." 5 "...Something like Ethan!" "Nah, can't find anything online. No pictures either!" "Too bad, missed my chance to become Mrs. Rockwell… haha, just kidding!" I half-listened to the fragmented gossip, not really getting it. Feeling bored, I propped my chin on my hand, watching our site's owner, clearly tipsy, excitedly announce round after round of prize drawings. I muttered under my breath, "Did the boss mainline caffeine? Drawing prizes like this, won't he wake up bankrupt tomorrow?" "You didn't know?" Maya, the author next to me, leaned in conspiratorially. "Our revenue stream did really well this year. Apparently, some big investor pumped in a ton of cash. So the boss is happy. Let him draw, who cares? It all comes out of our royalties anyway!" Good point! I nodded in agreement. Big bosses, small bosses – all sharks. I seriously doubted there were any real big prizes waiting. Famous last words. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the spotlight suddenly swung… right onto me. I looked up, bewildered. "Number 66!" A wave of murmurs went through the room. I automatically fumbled for the numbered ticket they gave us at the door. The big, bold "66" practically blinded everyone nearby. "Congratulations to Number 66, winner of the $10,000 grand prize!" The host's voice nearly cracked with excitement. A grand prize had literally fallen into my lap, leaving my head spinning. My legs were actually trembling as I walked up to the stage. Man, was this real? Felt like a dream. The prize was a prepaid card, supposedly loaded with the ten grand. Hope the boss wasn't bluffing. Maya stared at me, eyes wide with excitement. As soon as I got back to the table, she grabbed my arm and wouldn't let go. "Sarah! Remember me when you're rich!" "Yeah, yeah, don't forget me either!" "Okay, okay! I won't, I won't!" I sighed, amused. Back in my seat, I definitely felt more people looking my way. "By the way, Sarah, that dress is amazing! Where'd you get it?" Maya's eyes were glued to my outfit. "You have no idea, when you were on stage just now, you were practically glowing!" I told her the truth. "Just got it at the mall, it was only $150. You're exaggerating!" "$150? But it looks like it cost thousands." "It was on sale, but seriously, not as expensive as you think." No way was I buying that the manager sold me that dress at a loss! I glanced around. Yep, still getting stares. "I need some air, it's stuffy in here." Maya waved me off as I headed for the door. The small banquet hall was on the first floor; the Rockwell party was reportedly on the third. I was just wandering through the hotel lobby, trying to stretch my legs, when I looked up and saw a familiar face. Ethan. Standing on the third-floor balcony, looking down at me.
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