CHAPTER 6: STIRRINGS OF THE HEART
1733words
"Have you lost your mind?" Father paced back and forth in his study, his voice rising with each step. "How long have you even known Nathan Blake? And you're already planning to marry him?"
I sat calmly on the sofa, watching his agitated reaction. "Two days."
"Two days!" He nearly shouted the words. "Emma, marriage isn't a game! The Blakes may have money and influence, but how much do you really know about Nathan?"
"Enough," I answered simply.
Mother sat nearby, her expression a complex mixture of concern and confusion. "Emma, we're just worried about you. This decision seems so... rushed."
"I understand your concerns," I said, meeting their eyes. "But I've thought this through carefully. Nathan is a good man. We're... compatible."
Alexander had been leaning against the desk in silence. Finally, he spoke. "If this is your choice, I respect it. But if the Blakes ever mistreat you, remember—you have a brother."
I looked at him in surprise, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. In my previous life, I had never received such support from him.
"Thank you, Alexander," I said softly.
Just then, the door burst open. Olivia stormed in, her face pale and eyes brimming with tears.
"This can't be happening!" she shrieked. "How could you marry Nathan? You barely know each other!"
I regarded her coolly. "This is between Nathan and me."
"What tricks did you use?" Olivia advanced toward me, her voice trembling. "How could Nathan possibly choose you? You're nothing but a country bumpkin! Do you know how many women want to marry him? He was supposed to be mine!"
"Olivia!" Mother's sharp voice cut through the room.
"Mother!" Olivia turned to her, tears streaming down her face. "You don't understand! Nathan is... he's the man I've always loved! And her—what makes her so special? Just because she's the 'real daughter'? She doesn't deserve Nathan!"
SLAP! The sound of a palm striking flesh echoed through the room.
Mother stood there, her hand still raised, face ashen with anger. "How dare you! Emma is family, and you have no right to insult her like this!"
Olivia clutched her cheek, staring at her mother in disbelief. "Mother... you struck me? For her?"
"To teach you some basic human decency!" Mother's voice shook. "We raised you, gave you everything, and this is not the selfish, spiteful person we brought you up to be!"
Tears spilled down Olivia's cheeks. She shot me a look of pure hatred before rushing from the room.
A heavy silence fell. Only then did I realize that Olivia had been harboring feelings for Nathan all along. In my previous life, I had been too consumed by my own pain to notice.
"I should check on her," Mother sighed, but Father stopped her.
"Let her cool down. It's time she grew up," he said, then turned to me with a serious expression. "Emma, if you're determined to marry Nathan Blake, I won't stand in your way. But remember, no matter what happens, the Sinclair family will always be your safety net."
His words struck me deeply. In my previous life, the Sinclairs had never supported me through hardship. Now, they were promising to be my foundation.
"Thank you, Father..." I whispered, the word "father" barely audible.
---
The wedding was set for the first weekend in May at the Blake family estate on the outskirts of the city. Nathan took charge of all the arrangements, only asking me to choose my wedding dress and bouquet.
"Are you certain about these flowers?" The florist looked skeptically at the blue cornflowers I had selected. "They're beautiful, but rather unconventional for a wedding."
"Yes, these are perfect," I said firmly.
Cornflowers had been my favorite in my previous life. Back then, I had planted a small patch in the Sinclair garden and would sit among them whenever I felt low.
The day before the wedding, I stood alone in the newly decorated estate, watching the sea of blue cornflowers swaying gently in the breeze.
"Do you like it?" Nathan's voice came from behind me.
I turned to face him. "Very much. You've gone to great lengths."
Nathan gazed at me, his eyes shimmering with tenderness. "Tomorrow, you'll be Mrs. Blake. Nervous?"
"A little," I admitted. "This is, after all, a... unique marriage."
"Don't worry," he said, gently taking my hand. "I'll honor our agreement. Your freedom, your research, your dreams—none of it will be compromised."
I nodded, yet felt an unfamiliar emotion stirring within me. This marriage was merely a transaction, but Nathan's consideration and gentleness gave me a sense of security I'd never known before.
---
On our wedding day, sunshine bathed the grounds as a gentle breeze caressed the air. The Blake estate had been transformed into a fairytale setting—white gossamer drapes, crystal chandeliers, and thousands of blue cornflowers adorning every corner. Guests from all walks of life streamed in, while the media clamored to cover this high-profile union.
Standing in the dressing room, I studied my reflection. My wedding gown was a sleek satin mermaid design, elegantly simple with blue cornflowers accenting the waist and hem. The veil floated like a cloud, and in my hair sat a sapphire heirloom—Nathan had told me it belonged to his mother and hoped I would wear it.
"You look absolutely stunning." Alexander entered, impeccably dressed and solemn.
"Thank you," I smiled. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
"I'm your brother," he said quietly. "Today, I should be the one to walk you down the aisle."
I looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Father and Mother are already seated in the front row," Alexander nodded. "They're concerned, but they want your happiness."
I felt my eyes grow moist. In my previous life, I had never received such care from the Sinclairs.
"Ready?" Alexander offered his arm.
I took a deep breath and linked my arm with his. "Ready."
The wedding march began as Alexander and I proceeded down the petal-strewn aisle. Guests rose to their feet, all eyes upon us. In the front row, I saw the Sinclair couple—Father's expression grave, Mother's eyes glistening with tears. Olivia's seat was predictably empty, but I found I didn't care in the slightest.
Then I saw Nathan waiting at the end of the aisle. He stood tall in a perfectly tailored black suit, breathtakingly handsome. When our eyes met, his gaze held emotions I couldn't quite decipher—devotion, joy, and perhaps... satisfaction?
Alexander placed my hand in Nathan's, saying quietly, "Take care of her."
Nathan nodded solemnly. "I promise."
The minister began the ceremony. When Nathan recited his vows—"for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part"—his voice rang with such conviction and sincerity that it seemed less like a contract marriage and more like a declaration of genuine love.
When my turn came, I looked into Nathan's eyes and felt a moment of uncertainty. This man had appeared at my darkest hours, twice offering support and protection. The wedding he had arranged showed such attention to my preferences. Was this truly just a transaction for him?
"I, Emma Sinclair," I began, my voice slightly tremulous, "take you, Nathan Blake, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish you, till death do us part."
Something flickered in Nathan's eyes, as if my sincerity had caught him off guard.
"You may now kiss the bride," the minister announced.
Nathan gently lifted my veil and leaned in. What should have been a ceremonial peck transformed as I—caught up in the romance of the moment and moved by the depth in his eyes—stepped forward and kissed him with shy but genuine affection.
The kiss lasted longer than planned and felt sweeter than expected. When we parted, the guests erupted in applause and cheers. I caught a flash of surprise in Nathan's eyes, followed by profound tenderness.
"Mrs. Blake," he whispered, his voice slightly unsteady.
"Mr. Blake," I responded, my cheeks flushing.
Hand in hand, we walked back down the aisle to receive our guests' congratulations. Father gripped Nathan's hand firmly. "Take care of my daughter."
"I will, sir," Nathan promised solemnly.
Mother embraced me, whispering, "If you ever need anything, remember you can always come home."
I nodded, feeling a rush of warmth.
Alexander clapped Nathan on the shoulder, saying nothing, but his warning glance spoke volumes.
The reception took place in the estate's grand hall. Under crystal chandeliers, guests mingled and toasted while the orchestra played elegant waltzes. Nathan remained by my side, introducing me to various dignitaries, his hand resting lightly on my waist in a gesture both intimate and natural.
"How are you holding up?" he asked quietly during a rare moment alone.
"A bit tired, but I'm fine," I smiled in response.
"Just a little longer," he said gently, "then we can leave."
As the evening wound down, Nathan announced our early departure for our honeymoon. Amid a chorus of well-wishes, we entered a luxury car decorated with blue cornflowers.
As we drove away from the estate, I finally relaxed against the seat.
"Exhausted?" Nathan asked with concern.
"Somewhat," I admitted. "I didn't realize weddings were so draining."
"You were magnificent," he smiled. "Especially that kiss... very convincing."
I blushed. "I was just... caught in the moment."
Nathan chuckled softly but didn't press further. The car glided through the night, and I gazed out at the passing scenery, my thoughts in turmoil.
This wedding, this marriage, was supposed to be merely a transaction. Yet today, as I stood before Nathan reciting my vows, as our lips met, the emotions I felt seemed to transcend our contractual boundaries.
I stole a glance at Nathan beside me. He was looking out the window, his profile sharp and handsome in the moonlight. Who was this man, really? Why had fate brought us together in this strange way?
The car eventually stopped before the Blakes’ suburban villa—our new home.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Blake,” Nathan said, opening my door with gentlemanly grace.
I gazed at the elegant house before me, feeling a curious sensation bloom in my chest. This was my new home, a fresh beginning.
“Thank you, Mr. Blake,” I replied with a smile, stepping toward the future.
