He smiled knowingly.
“Guess I’ve always been a little crazy. But this—this might just take the cake.”
That afternoon, we went directly to city hall.
No wedding dress.
No flowers.
Just paperwork and two strangers signing their names.
When we stepped outside, Ethan grinned.
“Well, looks like we’re in this together now.”
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.Only then did the reality sink in.
I had just married someone I had met that same day.
The days that followed passed in a blur. Ethan and I settled into an unusual routine that somehow became comforting.
His life was simple and unhurried. He taught me things I had never bothered learning—how to cook breakfast without relying on anyone else, how to shop carefully, how to stretch a grocery budget.
When my father discovered I had married, he exploded.
He called every hour, leaving short messages filled with icy anger. After several days of ignoring him, I finally answered.
“What is going on, Anna?” he demanded. “You married someone—a stranger! A janitor! Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s my life, Dad,” I replied, unable to keep my voice from shaking.
“You have responsibilities, Anna. Do you think the world is going to respect this… this nonsense? I’ll come by tomorrow. I want to meet this husband of yours.”
“Fine, Dad,” I answered, a chill running through me. I knew avoiding him forever was impossible.
The following evening, my father arrived at our modest apartment wearing another expensive designer suit. His eyes swept over the mismatched furniture and simple décor with obvious disgust.
“Anna, are you really staying here?” he asked.
“This is our home,” I answered, folding my arms while sensing Ethan standing quietly behind me.
Then my father faced Ethan.
“So, you’re the man who married my daughter,” he said with open contempt. “Do you know who she is? Do you have any idea what she’s worth?”
Ethan met his eyes without hesitation.
