Addicted to Her After Marriage

Chapter 1

Isabelle Sanchez rose with the sun, her mind already filled with the weight of the day ahead. She had a mission to accomplish before the world fully awakened. Breakfast was prepared for her sister's family of three, a gesture of love and duty that had become routine. But today, there was an undercurrent of urgency in Isabelle's movements.

The argument between her sister and brother-in-law had echoed through the walls the previous night, the words lingering in Isabelle's mind. The financial strain was becoming unbearable, and it seemed her sister's husband had found a target for his frustrations - Isabelle herself. The realization stung, but she knew it was time to forge her own path.

With her birth certificate tucked safely in her pocket, Isabelle slipped away from the chaos in silence. The solution to her problems lay in one desperate act - marriage. And fate had presented her with an unexpected opportunity, courtesy of Grandma Lucy.

Twenty minutes later, Isabelle found herself at City Hall, her heart racing with anticipation. As she stepped out of her car, a familiar voice called out to her. It was Grandma Lucy, a beacon of comfort and guidance in this whirlwind of uncertainty.

"Isabelle," Grandma Lucy's warm voice enveloped her, easing the knots of anxiety in Isabelle's stomach.

"Grandma Lucy," Isabelle replied, her steps quickening as she approached the elderly woman. Standing beside her was a figure that commanded attention - Cohen Young, the man she was about to marry.

As Isabelle drew closer, her breath caught in her throat. Cohen's face, once a mystery to her, was now revealed in all its glory. And it was far from what she expected.

Grandma Lucy had painted a picture of a man plagued by bad luck in love, a man who had reached the age of thirty without finding a partner. Isabelle had imagined him as someone hideous, a mirror of his ill-fated romantic journey. But standing before her was a man of undeniable presence, with features that captured her attention and held it captive.Isabelle had heard rumors about Cohen's prestigious position within a major corporation, climbing the corporate ladder with a high-paying job. But now, face-to-face with him, she realized she had gotten it all wrong.

Cohen was undeniably attractive, but there was an air of aloofness that surrounded him. Standing next to Grandma Lucy with a sour expression, he exuded a standoffish vibe, warning people to keep their distance.

Isabelle's gaze shifted to a black MPV parked nearby. The logo indicated it was a national brand, not some extravagant million-dollar vehicle. She deduced that the economic gap between her and Cohen wasn't as wide as she had initially assumed.

She and an old friend from school had opened a small bookshop at the entrance of Wiltspoon School. In her spare time, Isabelle also knitted little trinkets to sell online. The sales were decent enough.

In a month, she could bring home a steady income of twenty thousand dollars. In Wiltspoon, that amount would place her among the white-collar workers. It was why she could afford to give her sister five thousand dollars for living expenses.

However, Isabelle's brother-in-law remained oblivious to her earnings. She had instructed her sister to keep three thousand dollars for themselves and only disclose the remaining two thousand to her husband.

"Isabelle, this is my oldest grandson, Cohen," Grandma Lucy introduced, "He's a thirty-year-old man who can't seem to find his way. Despite his distant demeanor, he's attentive and considerate. You saved my life, and we've known each other for three months. Trust me when I say I wouldn't recommend a bad man to you."

Cohen glanced at Isabelle skeptically, staying silent. Perhaps he had grown accustomed to her grandmother's complaints.

Isabelle knew that Grandma Lucy had three sons, each of whom had given her three grandsons, blessing her with a total of nine grandsons.Ever since her granddaughter had gone missing from her life, Grandma Lucy had been yearning for that special connection. And now, in Isabelle, she saw the potential to fill that void.

Isabelle, though slightly flustered, reached out her right hand to Cohen and introduced herself with a warm smile. "Hello, Mr. Young. I'm Isabelle Sanchez."

Cohen's intense gaze swept over Isabelle, taking in every detail. Nana cleared her throat, prompting him to extend his right hand for a handshake, although his voice carried a frosty tone. "Cohen."

After the brief exchange, Cohen glanced at his watch before addressing Isabelle. "I'm a busy man. Let's get this over with."

Isabelle nodded in understanding.

Grandma Lucy intervened. "Go inside and sort out the paperwork. I'll wait here."

"Gran, get in the car. It's scorching outside," Cohen said as he assisted Nana into the vehicle.

Through his actions, Isabelle could see that Grandma Lucy was right about Cohen. He may have seemed callous, but deep down, his intentions were good.

Despite being strangers, Grandma Lucy had mentioned that Isabelle could move out of her sister's place and into a house that Cohen owned and had paid for in full. It would serve as reassurance to her sister and put an end to the arguments that plagued their household because of Isabelle's presence.

In reality, her married life wouldn't be much different from her single life.

Soon, Cohen returned to Isabelle's side and uttered, "Let's go."

"Sure," Isabelle replied quietly, following him into City Hall.

At the registry office, Cohen urged Isabelle, "Ms. Sanchez, you can still back out if you don't want to go through with this. My Nana's opinion doesn't matter. Marriage is a serious commitment, not to be taken lightly."

He secretly hoped that Isabelle would reconsider.

Because he had no intention of marrying a woman he had only just met.

Chapter 2

After much contemplation, Isabelle had finally reached a decision. Once her mind was made up, there was no turning back. Cohen, realizing that there was nothing more to be said, retrieved his document and placed it in front of the officer. Following suit, Isabelle did the same.

The pair swiftly breezed through the necessary formalities in less than ten minutes. As soon as the officer issued the marriage license, Cohen pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and handed them over to Isabelle. "The house I purchased is located in Brynfield," he informed her. "Nana mentioned that you own a bookshop near Wiltspoon School. My place isn't too far from your workplace, just a ten-minute bus ride away."

"Do you have a driver's license?" Cohen inquired. "If so, you can get a car. I can assist with the down payment, but you'll be responsible for the monthly payments. It would make your commute to work much easier."

"Thank you for the offer, but I don't have any immediate plans for a car," Isabelle replied. "I usually rely on an e-bike to get to work."

Cohen continued with his instructions, barely giving Isabelle a chance to speak. "I lead a rather busy life, so you won't see much of me. There will be business trips as well. Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself. I'll wire the household expenses to you on the tenth of every month, once my salary is in."

"Lastly," Cohen added, "for the time being, it would be best to keep our marriage a secret for convenience."

Isabelle had only agreed to this marriage to avoid becoming a source of conflict between her sister and brother-in-law. It was her way out of the house while still providing her sister with peace of mind. To her, it was merely a marriage in name. Grateful for the keys to the house, she accepted them with a sense of relief.After replacing the batteries on her bike, Isabelle couldn't resist the urge to take it for a spin. The wind brushed against her face as she pedaled down the street, her thoughts consumed by the upcoming conversation with Mr. Young.

"Um... Mr. Young, are we going to split the bills?" Isabelle asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

Despite her sister and brother-in-law marrying out of love, her brother-in-law seemed to think that going Dutch was the way to go, as if her sister was somehow taking advantage of him.

Isabelle couldn't help but feel frustrated. It took an immense amount of time and effort to care for a child, manage the household chores, and ensure that there was food on the table. Yet, someone like her brother-in-law, who had never experienced these responsibilities firsthand, seemed to believe that their wives had it easy at home.

Determined to assert herself, Isabelle suggested, "Since we didn't know each other before signing the papers, I think it would be more comfortable for both of us if we split the costs."

Cohen's response was sullen and dismissive. "I have the means to support my wife and our little family. There's no need for you to share the financial burden."

Isabelle smiled, though her disappointment lingered. "Alright then," she acquiesced.

But deep down, Isabelle knew she wasn't one to freeload without contributing. She was determined to pay her own way and contribute to the household expenses. After all, she was already saving on rent by moving in with Cohen.

Living together required give-and-take, as well as a mutual understanding. Isabelle believed that true harmony could only be achieved through fairness and equality.

As Cohen checked the time on his watch, he interrupted their conversation. "I need to get back to work. You can take my car home or hail a cab. I'll reimburse the fare. I'll drive Nana to my brother's."

Isabelle nodded, realizing the practicality of exchanging numbers. "That reminds me. Let's exchange numbers so we can easily reach each other," she suggested, pulling out her phone.

Quickly saving his contact information, Isabelle smiled. "I'll get a cab. I should leave you to your work."

Cohen nodded, his gaze focused on his tasks at hand. "Okay. Call me if you need me."

Before leaving, Cohen attempted to give her two hundred bucks for the cab fare, but Isabelle initially refused. However, when she saw the scowl on his face, she relented and accepted the money.

As they walked away from City Hall, Cohen veered off towards his car, leaving Isabelle to make her own way home."Where's my granddaughter-in-law?" Grandma Lucy demanded, her voice tinged with concern and suspicion.

Cohen, the only one who had emerged from the building unscathed, sighed. He knew he would have to face his grandmother's interrogation. "We went in together, but things didn't go as planned," he explained, fastening his seat belt before retrieving the marriage license from his pocket. He handed it to his gran, hoping it would appease her.

Gran examined the license, her eyes narrowing. "So you got the papers, but where is Isabelle? Did she change her mind?"

Cohen nodded. "I had to rush back for a meeting at the office. I gave her some money for a cab."

His grandmother's disapproval was palpable. "You can't just leave her behind, Cohen. Drive back and wait for her. You can go to work once she's safe."

Cohen hesitated, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Gran, I married her because you wanted me to, but I can't let you dictate every aspect of my life. I need to see for myself if this marriage is worth it. If Isabelle doesn't pass the test, I won't make it official."

Grandma Lucy muttered under her breath, her voice filled with concern. "Divorce is not an option for our family."

Cohen's resolve hardened. "Well, then it's up to me to choose a wife who deserves to spend the rest of my days with me."

With that, he started the car, ready to face the consequences of his decision.

"Punk!" Grandma Lucy exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration. "No husband would behave like this. How could you abandon your bride right after getting married?"

Cohen knew his grandmother's words held some truth. But he also knew that he couldn't let himself be controlled by her. If Isabelle had been lying or putting on a facade, he would find out soon enough. And if she didn't deserve his love and happiness, he would end the marriage, even if it meant breaking his grandmother's heart.

As Grandma Lucy continued to scold him, Cohen remained silent. He would do what was right for both himself and Isabelle, even if it meant defying his family's expectations.Isabelle pondered the possibilities that lay before her. Despite the secrecy surrounding their marriage and Zack's lack of interest in physical intimacy, she could still seek companionship elsewhere. The thought lingered as they drove through the city streets, until Zack pulled over at an intersection.

A cluster of opulent sedans adorned the curbside, including a magnificent Rolls Royce that caught Isabelle's eye. As Zack stepped out of the car, he tossed the keys to a waiting bodyguard with a casual command. "Take the old Mrs. home."

Grandma Lucy protested vehemently, determined to stay by Zack's side and spend time with her new granddaughter-in-law. But her pleas fell on deaf ears as Zack climbed into the luxurious sedan, leaving his grandmother behind.

Unbeknownst to Grandma Lucy, Zack was not just any man. He was the mover and shaker of Wiltspoon's corporate world, heir to the wealthiest family in town with a net worth surpassing a hundred billion dollars.

Grandma Lucy's frustration boiled over, and she cursed her grandson under her breath. "Ruthless bastard!" she exclaimed, her bitterness evident. "I'll wait for karma to strike when you fall in love with Isabelle."

But no amount of anger could bring Zack back. By the time Grandma Lucy reached for the phone to call Isabelle, her grandson's new wife was already on her way home in a cab.

"Isabelle, Zack is overwhelmed with work. Please don't take it to heart," Grandma Lucy reassured, her voice filled with concern.

Isabelle, feeling the weight of the marriage license tucked into her pocket, responded graciously. "I understand, Grandma Lucy. It doesn't bother me at all. Please don't feel bad. Zack is covering my fare, and I'm already on my way home."

Suddenly, Grandma Lucy's tone shifted, reminding Isabelle of their new familial bond. "You're married to Zack now. Can you still call me Grandma Lucy?"

Isabelle was momentarily lost in thought before dialing her grandmother's number.

With joy in her heart, Grandma Lucy accepted the new title. "We're family now, Isabelle. If Zack ever mistreats you, know that I'll be there to support you."

She had waited a lifetime for her grandson to find love, and there was no way Grandma Lucy would allow him to trample over Isabelle.

Chapter 3

Isabelle casually replied, her mind preoccupied with the complexities of family dynamics. While Grandma Lucy had always been kind to her, Cohen was her flesh and blood, whereas Isabelle was only connected to the family through marriage. It was difficult for Isabelle to fathom that the Youngs would side with her in any conflict between her and Cohen.

This situation reminded Isabelle of her sister's experience with her in-laws. Before getting married, they had treated her sister exceptionally well, to the point where their own daughter became envious. But once the wedding vows were exchanged, everything changed. Every time Isabelle's sister had a disagreement with her husband, her mother-in-law would place the blame on her, criticizing her for being a bad wife. It seemed that, in this scenario, the son was always considered part of the family, while the daughter-in-law remained an outsider.

"You're probably heading to work, so I won't keep you. I'll ask Zack to give you a ride home for dinner tonight," Isabelle said, attempting to make plans.

"Nana, I'll be closing the shop late tonight. I doubt I'll be able to make it. Can we reschedule for the weekend?" Isabelle explained, aware of her busy schedule.

The weekends were the perfect time for them to meet up. Since the bookshop primarily relied on students, business tended to be slower when school was out. Isabelle would have more free time and wouldn't need to worry about setting up shop during those days.

"Sure," Grandma Lucy agreed, her voice filled with understanding. "Let's plan for the weekend then. Focus on your work for now."

With that, the call ended, leaving Isabelle to contemplate her next steps. Instead of immediately heading to the shop, she decided to send a text message to her best friend, Lavinia Sox, informing her that she would be back before the last school bell rang. This was a major milestone for Isabelle, and she wanted to share the news with her sister and start making arrangements to move out.

About ten minutes later, Isabelle arrived at her sister's home. Her brother-in-law had already left for work, and her sister was outside on the balcony, hanging clothes to dry. As soon as she saw Isabelle, concern filled her eyes, prompting her to express her worries."Why have you returned at such an hour, Seren? Is the shop closed for the day?" 

"I plan to go later when it's bustling in the afternoon. Has Milo woken up yet?" 

Milo happened to be Isabelle's mischievous nephew, currently in the throes of his Terrible Twos. 

"Not yet. If he were awake, this house would be far from quiet," replied Isabelle, her voice tinged with amusement. 

As Isabelle helped with the laundry, Isabelle inquired about the events of the previous night. 

"Seren, your brother-in-law isn't attempting to push you out. He's simply overwhelmed by stress. It's not as if I'm contributing much either," Chloe interjected, her tone gentle yet firm. 

Isabelle kept her thoughts to herself, well aware that her brother-in-law's actions were a covert ploy to rid himself of her presence. 

Her brother-in-law held a prestigious managerial position in a firm, earning a substantial income. Chloe had met him during their college years, both working for the same company. After their marriage, he lovingly assured Chloe, "I'll take care of you. Just stay at home and rest. I don't want you to tire yourself out when the baby arrives." 

Believing she had found the perfect partner, Chloe bid farewell to her job and embraced the role of a housewife. A year into their marriage, she gave birth to a beautiful son, leaving her with little time to focus on her appearance amidst the demands of childcare and household chores. Chloe paid no mind to her figure, nor could she break free from the monotonous routine and return to the workplace. 

Fast forward three years, and Chloe had transformed from a youthful and radiant woman to an overweight and disheveled housewife, with no moment to spare for herself. 

Isabelle, five years her sister's junior, had lost their parents in a tragic car accident when she was just ten years old. Since then, Isabelle and Chloe only had each other to rely on. 

The compensation from their parents' accident would have been sufficient for the sisters to complete their education, but both sets of grandparents had their eyes on it. With what little remained, the sisters had to scrimp and save to put themselves through college. 

With the family home greedily claimed by their grandparents, Isabelle and her sister were left with no choice but to rent a place of their own.Their days of renting were finally over as Chloe made her way down the aisle. She had always adored Isabelle, her rock and confidante, and before tying the knot, she had a heart-to-heart with her soon-to-be husband about their living arrangement. He agreed to take both Chloe and Isabelle as a package deal, but beneath the surface, his resentment began to rear its head.

"I'm sorry, Chloe. I feel like such a burden to you," he confessed.

"No, Seren. Don't think like that. Our parents left us too soon, and now it's just the two of us," Chloe reassured him, her voice filled with love and determination.

Isabelle watched the exchange, deeply moved. As children, she had always relied on Chloe's unwavering support, and now it was her turn to be the rock for her sister.

After a moment of silence, Isabelle reached into her bag and pulled out a marriage license. She handed it to Chloe, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "I got married, Chloe. I signed the papers today, and I wanted to let you know before I start packing up."

"You got married?!" Chloe's voice rose in pitch, almost reaching a screech.

Chloe stared at Isabelle in disbelief, snatching the marriage license from her hands. There, on the document, was Isabelle's name alongside a stranger's. A photo of the newlyweds was attached, revealing a man with striking looks but a hardened expression that hinted at a challenging personality.

"What is this, Isabelle? I thought you didn't even have a boyfriend," Chloe questioned, her voice laced with confusion and concern.

Isabelle had prepared a story during her journey back home, and now it was time to share it. She took a deep breath and replied, "I've been in a relationship for a while now. His name is Cohen, and he's always been busy with work, which is why he couldn't find the time to meet you."

"He proposed, and I said yes. We went to City Hall to get our marriage license," Isabelle continued, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and conviction. "He's a wonderful man, Chloe. He treats me well. Don't worry, I'm going to have my happily-ever-after."

Chloe struggled to believe the story. She had never heard a word about a boyfriend in Isabelle's life, and now she was claiming to have a ring on her finger.Isabelle must have eavesdropped on their heated argument the previous night. Chloe, visibly distraught, couldn't hold back her tears as she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. "Seren, I can't believe you told your brother-in-law that you paid for our groceries. It's fine, really. You can stay with us."

Seren reached out to comfort her sister, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Chloe, there's no need for you to rush into getting married or moving out. We'll figure something out."

Chloe couldn't help but wonder if Isabelle truly understood the gravity of the situation. If she had known Seren's boyfriend for a long time, why did she choose to reveal this now?

The sudden decision to obtain a marriage license was a desperate attempt to appease Chloe's husband, who believed Isabelle had overstayed her welcome. Isabelle was determined to give herself away before Chloe's marriage crumbled under the strain.

With a reassuring smile, Isabelle tried to comfort her sister. "Chloe, this has nothing to do with you. My relationship with Cohen is strong, and I've found my happiness. You should be happy for me too."

But Chloe couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face, her heart heavy with mixed emotions.

Isabelle held her sister tightly, offering solace and support until Chloe cried herself out and regained her composure. Isabelle made a heartfelt promise to Chloe. "I'll visit you often, Chloe. Cohen's house in Brynfield isn't far from yours. It only takes me ten minutes on the e-bike."

Curiosity getting the better of her, Chloe decided to inquire about Cohen's family. With the marriage now sealed, she had no choice but to accept it and wanted to know more about her new brother-in-law.

Isabelle admitted that she didn't know much about the Youngs. While she had spent three months with Grandma Lucy, she never delved into the family's private affairs, instead lending a sympathetic ear to her grandmother. All she knew was that Cohen was the oldest among his siblings and had numerous younger brothers and cousins.

Cohen had a successful job in one of Wiltspoon's prestigious companies, and he had made a comfortable life for himself with a house and a car. Isabelle shared the little information she had gathered with her sister.

Upon learning that Cohen owned the house without any debts, Chloe couldn't help but ask, her voice tinged with hope, "Is it possible for him to add your name to the title deed? That way, at least you'll have some security."

Isabelle considered the suggestion, realizing the importance of having her name on the deed. It would provide her with a sense of stability and reassurance in their new life together.

Chapter 4

Cohen's gesture of handing Isabelle the key to their new home right after their wedding was a tremendous favor. It instantly resolved her housing predicament, allowing her to move in without delay.

Isabelle had never asked Cohen to add her name to the house, but she wouldn't have refused if he had done it voluntarily. Now that they were husband and wife, she had made up her mind to spend the rest of her life with him.

Chloe couldn't help but bring up the topic, although she knew Isabelle was independent and not motivated by greed. However, she didn't dwell on it after a brief conversation.

After a series of discussions, Isabelle successfully moved out of her sister's place and into her new home.

Chloe initially planned to drop Isabelle off at Brynfield, but Milo woke up just as they were about to leave. The little boy immediately started crying for his mama.

"You should tend to Milo. I don't have much stuff, so I can handle the move on my own," Isabelle assured Chloe.

Chloe needed to feed her son and start preparing lunch. If her husband came home and found no food on the table, he would surely call her out for doing nothing.

Reluctantly, Chloe said, "Drive safely. Are you and your husband coming over for lunch? It would be nice to meet him."

"I won't be able to make it for lunch. I have to go to the shop in the afternoon. As for my husband, he's swamped with work. He's leaving for a business trip later, so it might be a while before I can introduce him to you," Isabelle replied, weaving a small lie.

She knew very little about Cohen, except for what Grandma Lucy had mentioned about his workaholic nature. He often traveled for business, sometimes being away for days at a time. Without a clear understanding of his schedule, Isabelle didn't want to make any commitments she couldn't keep.

"He's going on a business trip on the same day he got married," she added, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.Chloe couldn't help but feel that Cohen was being inconsiderate towards Isabelle. As they discussed their pending wedding plans, Chloe pointed out that it would be helpful if Cohen could contribute more financially since the expenses were starting to pile up. With a quick goodbye, Chloe left Isabelle and her young nephew, Milo, to go and feed the hungry little boy.

Left alone, Isabelle grabbed her suitcase and made her way down the stairs. She had heard of Brynfield before, but had never actually been to the neighborhood. Hailing a taxi, she gave the driver the address and soon found herself standing outside the grand entrance of Brynfield.

As Isabelle stood there, it suddenly dawned on her that she had forgotten to ask Cohen which floor his apartment was on. Pulling out her phone, she contemplated calling him, but knew he was probably at work and might not pick up. Despite this, she decided to try reaching him through WhatsApp instead.

Meanwhile, Cohen was in the midst of an important meeting. As the room buzzed with conversation, everyone's phones were set to silent mode, prohibiting any personal calls. Cohen had even gone a step further and muted his phone completely. However, as he glanced at the screen, he noticed an incoming call from an unknown number - Isabelle. Without a second thought, he canceled the call, not realizing it was her.

Unaware of Cohen's actions, Isabelle continued to try messaging him when her call went unanswered. Frustrated, she typed out a message asking for the floor number of his apartment at Brynfield. With a tap of her finger, she sent the text, only to be met with an error message indicating that her message couldn't reach the intended recipient.

She stared at her phone in confusion, wondering why she couldn't reach Cohen. They had exchanged numbers at City Hall, so it didn't make sense.Isabelle pondered to herself, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. "Did I get the number wrong?" she mumbled, her mind grappling with the possibility of a memory lapse. After careful consideration, she concluded that the number was indeed correct. The only plausible explanation was that Cohen had blacklisted her.

How could he forget that they had just gotten married? Isabelle couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt at the thought. To be honest, if she had stayed at her sister's house a moment longer, she would have completely forgotten about her husband as well.

Determined to find answers, Isabelle dialed Grandma Lucy's number. When her grandmother picked up, Isabelle wasted no time in explaining her predicament. "Nana, I've moved out of my sister's place and I'm now at Brynfield. But I don't know Mr. Young's... Uh... Do you happen to know which floor Cohen's place is on?"

Silence greeted her question, leaving Isabelle hanging on the edge of anticipation. "Hang on, Isabelle. I'll call Zack right now," Grandma Lucy finally responded, her uncertainty evident.

Grandma Lucy was just as clueless as Isabelle. The revelation of Cohen's recent purchase of a house at Brynfield, after they had obtained their marriage license, came as a surprise to her. The old lady wasted no time ending the call, determined to get in touch with Cohen.

Meanwhile, Cohen, having blacklisted his bride's number, nonchalantly placed his phone back on the table and resumed his meeting. It took less than three minutes for his mobile screen to light up again. Seeing that it was Nana calling, Cohen reluctantly answered the call.

"I'm in a meeting, Nana," he grumbled, his voice husky with annoyance. "Whatever it is, it can wait until I get home."

"Zack, what's the unit number of the place you bought at Brynfield? Isabelle's there now, but she doesn't know where exactly. Don't you have her number? Go and tell her," Grandma Lucy urgently relayed.

Cohen's sleek brow raised in surprise as he processed his grandmother's words. Ah, now he remembered. He had tied the knot today with a woman he had never met before, a woman whom Nana held a deep fondness for. Her name was Isabelle, or so he believed.Just moments ago, Cohen had made the decision to blacklist his wife's number. The weight of that choice hung in the air as he turned to his trusted confidant, Nana, and uttered the words that would alter the course of their evening.

"Nana, tell her it's apartment 808 on the eighth floor of Block B," he instructed, his voice heavy with a mix of determination and regret.

Nana, ever the efficient and no-nonsense woman, nodded in understanding. "Sure. I'll let her know. Carry on with your meeting," she said briskly, ending the call before passing the message along to Isabelle.

Cohen found himself staring at his phone, the silence ringing in his ears. The weight of his actions settled upon him, and he knew he couldn't let it stand. With a sigh, he removed Isabelle from his banned contacts, a small act of contrition amidst the chaos.

Saving her contact, Cohen hesitated for a moment before crafting an apologetic text message. "I'm sorry. I forgot who you were earlier," he typed, his fingers hovering over the send button.

Isabelle, however, was not one to hold grudges. She understood the complexities of life and the occasional lapses in memory. Her response was swift and forgiving, her words a balm to Cohen's troubled conscience.

"It's fine. Just do your thing. I'm moving my stuff up the stairs," she replied, her tone laced with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Cohen couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at her words. Did she really think he wouldn't help if she needed it? He considered offering his assistance, but the weight of his responsibilities held him back. "Do you need help?" he ventured, his concern genuine.

Isabelle's response was both cheeky and understanding. "I only have a suitcase. I can move it myself. Besides, are you going to come back and help if I really need it?" she teased, her words tinged with a cry-laughing emoji.

Cohen couldn't help but chuckle at her playfulness. It was a rare moment of levity in the midst of his chaotic life. "No," he admitted honestly, his reply tinged with a touch of regret. The demands on his time were relentless, leaving little room for anything else.

Isabelle's radio silence spoke volumes. She didn't want to be a burden, even if it meant navigating the challenges alone. Cohen, too, fell silent, realizing just how little he knew about this woman who now occupied his life.

He had hoped for a docile wife, someone who wouldn't demand much of his attention. But as he placed his phone back on the table, he couldn't ignore the weight of the gazes fixed upon him. The eyes of those around him seemed to speak volumes, questioning his choices and the distance he had placed between himself and Isabelle. And in that moment, Cohen couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was more to this stranger than he had ever imagined.

Chapter 5

Emmett, Cohen's second-ranked cousin among those in their age range, sat closest to him. Leaning in, he whispered, "Zack, I overheard your conversation with Nana. Did you really marry that Ser- girl?"

Cohen shot him a sharp glare in response.

Emmett scratched his nose, straightening his back as he decided to drop the probing. Despite this, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for Cohen.

The Young boys didn't need to rely on marriage for social and financial standing, but Zack and his new bride were far from a perfect match. Poor Zack. He had only married the girl because Nana had taken a liking to her.

Once again, Emmett silently offered his condolences to Cohen.

Emmett was relieved that he wasn't the oldest in the family. If he were, he would have had to step up and marry Nana's chosen lifesaver.

Unaware of all this, Isabelle received the details of the location and was busy dragging her suitcase towards her new home. Opening the door, she stepped into a spacious house, much larger and more luxurious than her sister's.

Setting down her suitcase, Isabelle took a moment to look around. This was her new home now.

It boasted two living areas, four bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and two balconies. Each space was expansive and filled with potential. Isabelle estimated the entire house to be at least two thousand square feet.

The place was sparsely furnished, with only a sofa set and a coffee table in the living room, along with a wine chiller.Only two of the four bedrooms boasted the comforts of a bed and wardrobe, leaving the other two empty, barren spaces. The master bedroom, however, stood out from the rest, boasting en-suite facilities that included a walk-in closet, study, and bathroom. Despite the division of space, the master bedroom remained an expanse much like the grand living hall.

Isabelle couldn't help but assume that this must be Cohen's domain, his sanctuary within their new home. As for herself, she chose to occupy one of the remaining bedrooms, appreciating the way the sunlight poured in from the adjacent balcony, illuminating the room with its golden glow. Nestled just a floor below the master bedroom, it offered her and her new husband the perfect balance of personal space and proximity.

Although they were now legally bound by marriage, Isabelle was cautious not to impose herself on Cohen. She wouldn't dare suggest spending time together as a married couple unless he initiated it. Respect for his autonomy was paramount in her mind.

After lugging her suitcase into the bedroom, Isabelle found herself drawn to the kitchen. It was immaculately clean, devoid of any signs of culinary activity. Both balconies, too, were empty, yet their vastness created an open, inviting atmosphere. Isabelle envisioned transforming the balcony into a lush oasis, adorned with vibrant plants and a cozy swing. There was nothing more idyllic than reading a book while gently swaying amidst a botanic backdrop.

It became evident to Isabelle that Cohen was rarely present for dinner. Now that she occupied the space, she decided that home-cooked meals were a necessity. With determination, she embarked on equipping the kitchen with the necessary utensils, making online purchases to ensure she had everything she needed. As for the balcony and additional furniture, she wanted to seek Cohen's input upon his return from work. After all, this was his house, and she was merely a guest in it.

With the kitchen tools ordered, Isabelle glanced at the time and realized she needed to hurry back to the shop. Her responsibilities awaited her, but thoughts of her new home and the potential it held danced in her mind.Snatching up the keys, she snatched her phone and hurriedly descended the stairs.

Isabelle managed to make it back to the shop just in time for the afternoon rush.

Concern evident in her voice, her best friend Lavinia inquired, "What were you up to this morning, Seren?"

"My sister and brother-in-law have been at each other's throats because of me. After giving it some thought, I decided to move out." Isabelle shrugged nonchalantly. "So, I packed up and left this morning."

Lavinia sighed, clearly exasperated by her brother-in-law's behavior. "Men love to make promises about taking care of us, but when push comes to shove, they're the ones nagging and finding fault. After marriage, women are expected to prioritize family above all else, even if it means smiling through misunderstandings. It's so unfair. Your sister should find a job! Women need to be financially independent so we can have a say in our households."

Mid-conversation, Lavinia's brow furrowed, confusion etching her face. "I can't believe your sister allowed you to move out."

"I got married."

"What? You got married? You don't even have a boyfriend. Who did you marry?" Lavinia's mindless nodding turned into shock as she stared at Isabelle wide-eyed, her voice reaching new heights.

Knowing that she couldn't keep the news from Lavinia any longer, Isabelle confessed the whole story.

Lavinia glared at Isabelle for a moment before playfully poking her forehead. "I don't know where you find the guts to marry someone you've just met. If you couldn't find a place, you could've stayed with me. I have extra rooms at my place. And if you were looking for a husband, you could've considered my cousin."

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