Across the road, you stared out the rear window of a dark-tinted car. Your eyes watched the streetlights illuminating the road you were traveling on, a road you never expected to cross, because you knew what would eventually await you: a different life with the man sitting next to you, or rather, with your husband, whom you barely knew, named Noah.

Yes, it was a marriage arranged by your family and Noah's, and that wasn't the main reason for your sadness. No, it wasn't because Noah was a bad man. On the contrary, he was a respectable man and a successful executive, and everyone agreed that he was flawless. But what didn't please you was that everything was planned so quickly that you didn't even wear the white dress or have the wedding you'd dreamed of.

Your marriage contract was on paper, before the ink had even dried, and now you were beside him in a car taking you to your new destiny as his wife.

While you stared absentmindedly out the window, Noah was busy on his phone. You thought he didn't want to talk to you, but in reality, what Noah was doing was browsing online stores, buying you clothes of his choice and many other things, because he wouldn't let you take your old ones.

Noah paused for a moment, as if he'd remembered something, and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. It was the wedding ring he'd forgotten to put on your finger. Then he turned his head toward you and said in a quiet voice,

"Give me your hand for a moment."