The Good Wife

01

A M B E R

" Be a good wife. Your husband is your god and you will worship him."

Mumma's words clouded my thoughts, my hands sweating profusely as I gripped my papa's hand to provide stability to my shaky legs.

Papa looked down at me, tears pooled in his old eyes as he walked me down the aisle. Just yesterday, I was his little girl, making him run after him and helping him cook and today, he is going to hand me over to another man.

My anxiety crossed its limit as I stood in front of my groom. Papa leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

He took my hand, gently caressing it with his thumb before he handed it to my groom. I felt a shiver run down my spine as he gripped my hand in a tight grip, squishing my fingers in his hold.

I looked up at my groom through my white veil. His face was stoic with a pinch of anger hidden in his expressions.

His eyes were puffy and red, signifying the hours he spent last night, mourning. He was dressed in a black tux, his dark brown hair combed back neatly, as always. But today, instead of his clean, chiselled jaw, I was met with an unruly stubble.

But, even with all that; he looks beautiful.

Pariston Erik Hemsworth is the dream of every girl, even mine. But he is my brother-in-law. Actually, he was. Today, he is my groom. Because last week, my sister died in a car crash. With Pariston's child. I was the one driving the car. And now, he is marrying me to give him the child he lost because of me.

He is my god and I'm his baby maker.

" Amber!" Pariston growled, giving me a little shove. I snapped out of my thoughts immediately, focusing on him.

The priest cleared his throat, looking between us. Pariston held his angry eyes on me as the Priest repeated himself.

" Do you Amber Bianchi take Pariston Hemsworth as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Already? No!

I stood there silent, my throat denying to produce any words as I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. I don't want to be a wife, I don't want to be a baby maker. I just want my sister and niece back, with my old life.

" Do you Amber Bianchi take Pariston Erik Hemsworth as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. Will you love thee Pariston Hemsworth and honour him all the days of your life?" The priest repeated himself, throwing a glance at Pariston.

Pariston looked like he was about to give me a good slap in front of everyone but controlled himself. His jaw ticked in anger as his hold on my fingers tightened. I held back a wince, looking up at his angry eyes.

" I do." The two words felt like a hefty weight on my chest, pushing me down into the drain of guilt.

" I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Pariston stood silent for a moment as if he was dreading to kiss me before he yanked off my veil. I looked up at him, his cold eyes stared down at me as he gripped my waist, pulling me towards him.

My hand rested on his chest, hard and warm against the coat. I closed my eyes, preparing for my first kiss with my husband when I felt his lips on my forehead. He stepped back immediately, fixing his tie as if I'm the most disgusting thing he has ever seen. White rose petals rained on us, symbolizing the beginning of a new bond; Between two broken people.

He stepped back, pulling his head down before he rushed out of the chapel. The crowd sat in a disturbing silence, everyone's eyes stuck on my face. Papa rushed to my side, supporting my shaky body against his as he pulled my veil down, gently stroking my back.

" Forgive me, Ambs. Your old man tried everything he could to save you." Papa whispers, stifling his sobs.

I nod my head, knowing he did everything to save his eighteen-year-old daughter from being married to a twenty-seven-year-old widower.

I guess this is it. Cheers to new beginnings!

"Knead it well," My mother-in-law grumbles, completely annoyed with me.

I nod, my fingers digging into the pasta dough as disappointment grows deeper on her face. She takes a long step towards me, harshly pushing my hands away from the dough.

" You're ruining it! I'll do it myself." She glares at me, as she begins to knead it harshly.

" I can try again." I mumble, looking at the dough which was falling apart.

" No need! I wonder what your mother has taught you. Sloan was such an angel, and you. . ." She trails off, letting the unsaid be unsaid.

I step back, leaning against the kitchen counter watching her work on the pasta. I remember making homemade pasta with papa every week too, except he never talked to me like everyone here does.

" My Pariston loves homemade pasta. Sloan always used to make him pasta every weekend, I wonder how my child is going to be now." She mutters under her breath.

Its been two months of my marriage now. I haven't seen my husband after our wedding day. My in-laws aren't very fond of me either, after all I'm the one who took their beloved grandchild and perfect daughter-in-law away.

" Are you going to stare at my face all day now? Go get dressed, Pariston will be here soon." She says, pouring herself some wine in a huge glass.
I nod at Mrs. Hemsworth, walking out of the kitchen.

Yeah right, Pariston will be here soon. I was told the same thing the day after my wedding, and a week later and two weeks later and every other week after it. I've honestly lost hope, and I guess it's best for both of us if we don't see each other soon.

With a loud sigh, I push the door close before climbing under the soft covers. I'm tired beyond words can explain. My eldest sister and little niece are dead because of me. I haven't seen my parents and my sister since my wedding. My husband hasn't come home yet. It cannot get any worse.