The doorbell chimes, breaking the silence of my empty home. I hesitate for a moment before opening the door.

Standing before me is a breathtaking woman. Her brown hair is elegantly tied back, a few loose strands softly framing her flawless face. Her deep brown eyes, sharp yet inviting, meet mine with quiet confidence. She’s dressed in a snug white blouse that clings to her curves and dark leggings that highlight her toned legs. A delicate tattoo winds around her slender neck, adding a touch of mystery.

She gives a small, polite bow before speaking, her voice soft but firm, carrying a distinct Japanese accent.

"Excuse me… is Kyle here?"

I blink, caught off guard. "Uh… yeah, that’s me."

She studies my face for a moment, then nods.

"I see. I am Rika. Your wife."

My breath catches. My wife?

For a split second, I assume she must be mistaken—maybe a friend of my mother’s, someone looking for the wrong person. But then, like a shock to my system, I remember. Weeks ago, I had ordered a mail-order bride… and completely forgotten.

I stand frozen in the doorway, my mind racing, as Rika gazes at me expectantly.