Flash Marriage: He Made My Jaw Drop

Chapter 3

Flash Marriage He Made My Jaw Drop

“Vivienne, did you get a fake certificate to fool me?” Mrs. Quinn read and reread the paper,

unconvinced that this was really authentic.

Vivienne pointed to the stamp. “Mom, it came straight from City Hall. It’s not fake.”

“Well, where is my son–in–law then? Why hasn’t he come to see me?” Mrs. Quinn peered out the door

and added, “I only asked you to go on the date and spend time with him. What’s all this for? Did you

even get to know him?”

“I thought you asked all about him. He works for Skyreach, which is a good job… he’s about thirty, and

he’s good–looking…” Vivienne thought back on the details of her brief time with Damien. “He seems

gentle enough. His parents died and he has no other immediate family members, so…”

It was nice to not have to worry about a mother–in–law and sister- in–law, right?

Mrs. Quinn let the news digest slowly. Even as she looked down at the marriage certificate, she wasn’t

sure she’d made the right choice by forcing her daughter to get married. She didn’t understand that

Vivienne had only rushed into this marriage to please her.

She had cancer, but she’d kept that from Vivienne all this time. After her last relationship had fallen

through, Vivienne had refused to go out with another man. Mrs. Quinn was worried that, when she died

one day, Vivienne would be alone and have no one to

take care of her, no one to help or hold her when things went wrong. That was why she’d been forcing

her to go on blind dates, to find a reliable man to settle down and start a family with.

Now that it was settled, though, it was useless to say anything else.

“Vivienne, ask my son–in–law to come meet me here.” Mrs. Quinn sat down heavily. “I know you did

this on your own, but he should still measure up to a mother’s standards.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him tomorrow if he can come have dinner here,” Vivienne said. “Mom, I have to go out to

the stall now. It’s hot outside and you don’t look too good, so stay home and rest.”

She repeated her instructions a few times more before packing her things and heading out. She’d set

up a stall at the Eastern Night Market to sell handmade jewelry, small pieces that she’d made herself.

Her stall was a second–hand van she’d bought, and she set up regularly at 5 o’clock every day and

closed at 11 o’clock sharp. When business was good, she would bring in about four thousand dollars a

month. In Washington D.C., where every inch of land was worth like gold, this was more than enough

for her to survive on.

Vivienne had studied jewelry design, but after an incident a few years ago, no jewelry company was

willing to hire her now. So she‘ d simply started her own business.

When she set up her stall for the night, the market was already

bustling. She took a second to send Damien a text message. My mother wants to meet you. Are you

free to have dinner tomorrow?

It went through, but there was no response. Business picked up shortly after, and Vivienne forgot all

about it.

Tonight was a good night for business. She sold over three hundred dollars worth of jewelry and closed

the stall at 11, as usual.

She was sitting in the back of the van counting the day’s earnings when her phone buzzed.

I’m sorry, I’m going to NY for business. I’ll be back in a few days, and we can do dinner theh.

Traveling for business was common in company work, Vivienne knew. Okay, she texted back.

She packed up and returned home. Nothing in her life had changed, except for her being officially

married now.

Vivienne was extra busy over the next few days, going out early and coming home late, and she all but

forgot that she had a husband. One night, she didn’t close the stall down until midnight, and it had

started to rain. When she got out, she realized the car had broken down in front of her house.

She would just repair it herself, she decided, climbing out with an umbrella to take a look. It wasn’t the

first time the van had had

issues, and there were no major problems as far as she could tell.

There were, however, several minor issues. She couldn’t afford to buy a new car, or even another used

car, since that would cost over half a year’s income for her. She would have to repair it and keep

driving it.

After a preliminary inspection, Vivienne figured that she’d have to send it to the shop again. She was

disappointed to realize that it would cost a couple hundred dollars.

She wasn’t far from her apartment, but the rain was getting heavier, and it was late at night. She left the

car on the side of the road and opened the trunk, shielding her things with the umbrella.

Vivienne would have to move all the unsold jewelry back since some still needed to be processed, and

some were from

customers that had given her their pieces for repair. She’d have to put it all back in her house tonight.

The wind was strong, and holding an umbrella and a big box at the same time proved difficult. The rain

had soaked her through already, and she knew she probably made an embarrassing sight.

Not far away, Damien watched this scene play out from inside his Rolls Royce, unbeknownst to her. He

had just come back from New York.

Vivienne looked thin, about to be blown away by the wind and rain, but she stood firm even as Damien

wondered if she’d be overwhelmed by the weather. The wind did, though, take her

umbrella, and she looked soaked all over. Still, she shielded her belongings with her body, keeping her

head down as she headed toward the apartment building.

Touched, Damien took an umbrella and nodded to his driver. “Go back to the old house.” All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Then he got out of the car and hurried to catch up with Vivienne.