❝𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖?❞
Asael didn't want to marry, let alone be forced into it by his parents, with a woman he didn't know. But to avoid any conflict and continue being the good son in their eyes, he gave...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
.- ... .- . .-..
Freedom isn't something you buy or earn—apparently, it's something that was given. But I still wonder every passing day why I didn't receive it.
"She's trans," Remi whispers, leaning on the doorframe of my room. The quiet of the room is enough for her words to reach me. "Mom and Dad don't know that, though."
With no answer, she spins around. The shadow of her figure against the light outside my dark room keeps the room dim. The only other thing visible to me is her bright blue eyes searching mine.
"..She had the operation a long time ago. No one would know. As of now, only the two of us do."
I raise a brow. "Her family? Friends?"
"She's an orphan. Her friends don't seem to know either." She shrugs.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"She's your fiancée, Asalie." Remi retains the quiet and softness of her voice, but the tone shifts to something else. "You ought to know."
"Does she..." I pause. Remi nods at the pronoun I used, "know I do?"
"Yes." A hand brushes some of her blonde locks, her eyes shifting and lingering there. "I've talked to her. She wants you to know."
Then why are you telling me? Shouldn't she be the one telling me this once we meet tomorrow or something?
I lean forward with a squint, trying to hold back. I ask, "Don't you think it'd be better if she told me herself?"
"Well, she said I can tell you and-"
"Are you sure it's not you?" I scoff. "You're not the one who wants me to know?"
The silence introduces a new quiet between us. Based on the shadows on the floor, her hands on her sides are shaking. I sigh and sit properly on my bed.
"I get it." I give her a small smile before squinting. "But that's enough. Don't tell me anything else."
"I just thought-" she rushes but then stops herself. She breathes in, her voice now low and shaky. "That... maybe you'd feel better marrying her if you knew she used to be a guy."
One of my eyebrows rises, but I don't say anything in response.
I don't know her. I know nothing about my fiancée other than that her name is Raphaela Gessel, she's twenty-four—the same age as Remi—and that she's... what Remi just told me. Yet, something inside me aches for her.
What my sister said was a slap across the face. Not just mine but Raphaela's, too. As if being forced to marry someone we don't know isn't a big deal. Toward me, it's as long as it's not a man. But what about Raphaela? What would happen if people other than Remi and I knew her secret? Wouldn't she be treated just as bad or even worse than me?
