Miss Gordon's Wedding Blues

It all began at the Amherstville train station, where a woman in a worn-out T-shirt and jeans emerged with a suitcase in hand.

This was none other than Heather Gordon.

She possessed an effortless beauty, with golden sunlight spilling over her long, silky hair like molten gold. Her eyes, deep and mysterious, resembled amber gems. Every delicate feature sculpted her flawless countenance. She wore no makeup, yet her natural beauty made her the center of attention in the room.

A man approached her, introducing himself as the driver from the Henson family sent to pick her up.

Heather acknowledged him with a tired nod and followed him into the car. She was exhausted from this trip.

As the car pulled away from the train station, the driver couldn't resist stealing glances at the sleeping woman in the back seat through the rearview mirror.

He couldn't help but be intrigued by her, as she happened to be Darian Henson's fiancée.

Darian, the famous CEO of the powerful Henson Corporations, was only twenty-one years old, yet was so strong to intimidate everyone in the business world.

Ironically, his grandfather, Robert Henson, had arranged a marriage for him long ago, and the soon-to-be bride turned out to be a young girl without any notable background. She even traveled all the way from the countryside to Amherstville by train.

The driver couldn't help but shake his head at Heather's innocent face and started worrying about what she would have to face once she married into this rich family.

As the car rolled forward, Heather slowly opened her eyes, taking in the unfamiliar city with a calm demeanor.

They pulled up to the grand Henson mansion, where the driver took the initiative to grab Heather's luggage.

The two of them made their way towards the entrance, only to be stopped by Darian's mother, Elaina Henson. Elaina's disdainful gaze fell upon Heather, and she yelled at her maid's name.

“Patricia!”

“Yes, madame.”

Patricia appeared soon, holding a bottle of disinfectant in her hand. With a cold spray, she doused Heather from head to toe.

Elaina instructed, "Don't forget about her shoes and hair! Don't miss a single detail."

The strong scent of the disinfectant filled the air, making Heather instinctively cover her face with her hand. Yet, she calmly asked, "Are you all out of your minds?"

Elaina's anger ignited at Heather's words.

"So, you really are an uneducated country bumpkin. You didn't even have the decency to greet me! We're just concerned about any viruses or bacteria you might bring into our house. What if it spreads and infects all of us?"

Under normal circumstances, Heather would have stormed off, but she had no choice but to stay now.

"Well, in that case, maybe you should spray some disinfectant in your mouth."

With those sharp words, Heather turned her back and walked away.

Elaina stood her ground angrily while Patricia panicked and comforted her.

A snobby and fancy-dressed young woman greeted Heather with a disdainful look inside the house.

"So, you're the lucky girl engaged to my cousin?" Joyce Henson remarked, eying Heather's plain outfit with scorn. "Oh dear, Grandfather seems to have lost his touch. If we had known you were taking the train, we could have arranged a private jet to pick you up. But I suppose your countryside doesn't have any airports, does it?"

Heather gave Joyce a look as if she were some kind of clueless clown.

It was becoming clear to Heather that arrogance ran in the Henson family.

Sure, the place Heather lived didn't have an airport, but Robert had gone all out and booked an entire train just for her. She was the single passenger on that luxurious ride.

Robert could have arranged a private plane to pick her up if she wanted.

Heather couldn't be bothered to explain all this to them and headed straight upstairs.

Realizing that she had been ignored, Joyce tagged along in anger.

"Where's my room?" Heather asked the maid behind her.

But before the maid could respond, Joyce pointed to a room and said, "Here."

As Joyce opened the door to the room, she sneered, "This is probably the fanciest and biggest room you've ever been to! You'd better appreciate your new life with the Hensons. I'm Joyce, Darian's cousin, and you better never mess with me, got it? One day..."

Before Joyce could finish her sentence, Heather entered the room and firmly shut the door, leaving Joyce seething with rage.

"Seriously, can you believe it? Why does this idiot think she can be all high and mighty? I can't believe Grandpa chose her!"

The maid cautiously chimed in, "Um, just to clarify, this is actually Mr. Darian's room."

Joyce scoffed and glanced disdainfully at the door.

"Please, I know how Darian hates other people touching his things. If he asks us later, we'll just say she insisted on staying here herself."

A devious gleam flickered in Joyce's eyes.

Heather had no idea that she had accidentally invaded someone else's bedroom. She noticed all these men's toiletries in the bathroom, but she just assumed it was the Henson family's weird way of joking with her.

She couldn't help but feel that this whole family was a bunch of weirdos.

But she only had to tough it out here for three months, then she'd finally be free. She had made a bet with her Grandpa and ended up losing, meaning she had to stay at the Henson's place for three months. If she and Darian still hadn't clicked at the end of it all, their engagement would be canceled.

After a refreshing shower and a quick meal brought by the servants, Heather crashed into a deep sleep because she was exhausted.

Late that night, Darian finally made his way back home from a business dinner party.

He knew that Heather was supposed to arrive at his house today. When Robert asked him to pick her up at the train station earlier, he brushed it off, claiming he had work to do. The truth was, he couldn't care less about his soon-to-be wife, and he was well aware that their engagement was doomed either way.

Darian went back to his room and took a shower before getting ready for bed.

Maybe it was because he'd had quite a bit to drink that night. It wasn't until Darian lay down in bed that he noticed there was a woman next to him.

He couldn't quite make out her face in the dim light, but he knew someone was there. Suddenly, she threw her arms around him and whispered, "Good night, my little bear."

Darian's mind froze.

There was something about this woman, a familiar scent that triggered memories from his past.

Maybe it was the alcohol messing with his head, but he didn't resist her at all and soon drifted off while holding her close.

Strangely, Darian didn't struggle with insomnia that night, not like before. Instead, he had a peaceful night.

He had a dream about something that happened ten years ago. In that dream, he found himself in a little dark room with a young girl hugging him and said, "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you."

In this dream, he felt like he had found that girl from his memories, and the dream felt so vivid, so real.

Joyce showed up at Darian's door early in the morning.

She had gone to bed early the previous night, and when she woke up and asked around, the servants revealed that Darian hadn't kicked Heather out of his room.

Joyce couldn't believe it. If it weren't for Darian's car being parked in the garage, she might have assumed he hadn't returned home.

But the fact that they had slept together was beyond her wildest imagination.

Unable to control herself, Joyce knocked on the door and said, "Darian, wake up! Breakfast is ready. Don't you have an early meeting today?"

Heather and Darian woke up at the same time after hearing a knock on the door. Heather found herself wrapped in someone's arms and quickly realized there was a stranger in the bed with her.

Wide awake now, Heather and Darian locked eyes in disbelief. Heather mustered up the courage to sit up and asked, "Who are you?"

Darian met her confused gaze with equal intensity.

"So, you're Heather?" He asked.

Heather had a hunch that this guy must be Darian, her fiancé. But she couldn't fathom how she ended up in his bed or why they were in the same room.

Darian slowly continued, his tone tinged with sarcasm, "You decide to crash in my bed on your first day in my house? Well, you sure know how to make an entrance. You're really something."

Confusion filled Heather's eyes as she tried to make sense of Darian's words. She had no clue what he was talking about because, in her mind, this was her room.

She even started considering the possibility that the Henson family suffered from a genetic disorder that messed with their sense of reality.

However, as Heather recollected what she had seen in the bathroom last night, a realization dawned on her. This must be Darian's room, and Joyce had somehow planned this whole mix-up on purpose.

Heather got out of bed, mustering an icy tone as she spoke, "First things first, I did not crash myself on your precious bed. Joyce told me yesterday that this was my room. Excuse me for not being the least bit interested in you."

"And let's not forget, when you came back home here last night, I was already sound asleep. Did you not notice there was someone else in your bed? Yet, you still slept next to me all night long. What does that imply? Could it be that you had some sneaky intentions towards me?"

Darian's face darkened as Heather's words struck a nerve. He remembered how he had fallen asleep last night, and it left him momentarily speechless to retort.

And, the moment he locked eyes with Heather, he froze.

Her beautiful eyes were exactly the same as the eyes of that girl in his memory.

Heather couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction.

"Why are you staring at me? Are you already smitten with me?" She playfully taunted.

Darian snapped back to reality, his face now a stormy expression. "Get out! Never set foot in my room again."

Heather didn't need a second invitation. She quickly gathered her belongings and left the room in proud.

From their very first encounter, it was crystal clear that neither of them could stand being in each other's presence.

As Heather walked away, Joyce stood there at the door, her face a mix of shock and disbelief.

Heather smiled at her and casually remarked, "Good morning! Just as you wished, your cousin and I spent the night in each other's arms last night. We really hit it off."

"That can't be true!" Joyce replied, her face turning paler by the second.

Joyce was convinced that Darian couldn't have any feelings towards Heather because she wasn't his type.

However, the undeniable truth was that they had spent the night together in the same room.