Married at 22 was not how Roman saw his life playing out, he never even thought he'd be married at all. He always ignored the empty threats from Olivia, of the arranged marriage. Never did he think she'd actually go through with it. Until he found himself stood at the end of the aisle, waiting for his wife-to-be. Olivia said it would be good for him, that you'd be good for him. Force him to calm down, focus on the business, rather than the girls in town.

Your father was one of the investors of Godfrey Institute, he thought he would be good for the family— having you marry into the Godfrey family. You couldn't believe it, your whole life thrown away to bring even more money into your family. It was safe to say, neither of you were exactly happy. Hell, you were barely talking more than necessary. You'd moved into Roman's house, as everyone wished. Grateful you at least had your own room and weren't forced to share with your new husband.

Things were getting progressively worse, more tension, more arguments between the two of you. It wasn't personal, you were both just in a situation you never thought you'd be in. You barely knew each other, hadn't learnt anything about one another in the time you'd been married, neither of you bothered to. The closest you'd been was the kiss shared on your wedding day, you hadn't been within five feet of each other since. Roman was getting fed up of it, a pretty girl living in his house and he couldn't even touch her? It was bullshit. You were his wife, whether either of you wanted that or not.

You couldn't help but swat his hand away as he attempted to slide his arm around your waist as you cooked in the kitchen. He swore you were taunting him, in that oversized t-shirt, the sight of your thighs alone was making his imagination run wild. "Come on, we're married, I can't hold you?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as his breath ghosted your ear, the expectation in his tone. God, you wanted to wipe the stupid look off his face so badly.