Refusing To Be His Perfect Replica, I Choose The Arranged Marriag by BlueMoone

C

(0)

Chapter 3

The next morning, feeling somewhat better, I arrived at the design firm right on time.

Sarah, my creative director, held my resignation letter with mixed emotions when I told her about returning home for marriage.

“First my best jewelry designer leaves for marriage,” she sighed, shaking her head. “The studio won’t be the same without you.‘

Words failed me, so I hugged her instead, grateful for her mentorship over the years.

News of my departure spread quickly through the office. My colleagues insisted on throwing me a

farewell dinner.

I suggested the Italian restaurant Castro and I frequented partly because I didn’t know many others, but mostly because their seafood risotto was exceptional.

During dinner, I excused myself to the wash my hand, only to find Oriana touching up her makeup at the marble vanity.

“What a coincidence!” She smiled warmly at my reflection. “You know, Castro first brought me here during our college days. We’ve had so many special moments in this place since then.”

I returned a polite smile and turned to leave, seeing no reason for small talk between us.

wasn’t finished.

– Castro always rinses the spicy sauce off your shrimp. Are you sensitive to spice too?”

single word “too” – made me

spicy food. But Castro always insisted on rinsing my shrimp, claiming spicy food wasn’t ladylike.

Now I realized

who couldn’t handle spice.

tilted her head, studying my

Chapter 3

been meaning to say this since I

similar?”

never felt more humiliated.

the pieces finally falling into place – I hadn’t been his love, I’d been her

my colleagues‘ warmth slowly thawed my frozen state.

push aside the unpleasant encounter, the

suit slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the crowded room. before landing on me with laser focus.

moment of eye contact, I saw barely contained rage in his expression, though I couldn’t fathom why.

cut through the chatter like ice.

for what happened next. His hand connected with my cheek in a sharp

he had never raised a

fury. “You knew her ankle was injured. I told you I’d explain everything later is this your way

cheek burned where he’d

limped toward us from down the hallway. Her designer blouse was rumpled and

water.

Castro shoved past me, rushing to gather her in