That’s when Mary entered the picture.
Mary wasn’t from the usual glamorous circles. I encountered her volunteering at a quiet charity event. She wore a modest dress, hair neatly tied, no designer labels—just genuine simplicity.
“Nice to meet you, Alex,” she said quietly, barely acknowledging my status.
“So, where are you from, Mary?” I asked, trying to read her.
“Just a small town,” she replied softly, offering a polite smile. “Nothing special.”
Perfect.
“How do you feel about marriage?” I asked abruptly.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly startled. “Excuse me?”
“I know it’s strange,” I admitted, forcing confidence. “But I’m looking for someone to marry. It’s complicated—but there will be some ‘tests’ first.”
Mary regarded me curiously, then unexpectedly laughed. “Funny you mention it,” she said, eyes gleaming mysteriously. “I could use a ‘marriage’ myself.”
Surprised, I pressed, “Really? So, it’s settled?”
She hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Alright, Alex. But one condition.”
“Which is?”
“No questions about my past. I’m simply a small-town girl. Can you agree to that?”
“Perfect,” I smiled, believing luck was on my side.
When I introduced Mary to my parents, their reaction was priceless. My mother struggled to conceal her shock, observing Mary’s understated appearance.
“Mary, is it?” she said with forced politeness.
My father frowned deeply. “Alex, this isn’t exactly what we had envisioned.”
“You wanted me settled,” I countered, smiling victoriously. “Mary’s perfect—calm, humble, and uninterested in extravagance.”
Mary played the part perfectly, politely reserved, and seemingly unfamiliar with high-society manners. Yet occasionally, I’d notice an amused glint in her eyes.
“Is this really what you want, Alex?” she asked quietly one evening.
“Absolutely,” I chuckled. “They’re totally unsettled.”
“Glad to help,” she replied softly, something unreadable in her voice.
The night of the charity gala arrived, an extravagant event meticulously planned by my parents. Mary walked beside me, modest dress contrasting vividly with the glitz and glamour around her.
“Tonight’s the final test,” I whispered.
“I understand,” she replied calmly.
As the evening progressed, Mary effortlessly blended into the background, polite and unassuming. My parents seemed relieved she wasn’t drawing attention—until the mayor himself approached us enthusiastically.
“Mary! Wonderful to see you!” he said warmly, shaking her hand vigorously.
My parents stared in disbelief. The mayor knew Mary?
“Good to see you, Mayor,” she responded politely, though a bit stiffly.
“Everyone still praises your family’s children’s hospital project,” he continued. “Your contributions made a huge impact.”
Mary nodded politely. “We aim to help wherever we can.”
As the mayor departed, my mother whispered urgently, “Alex, what’s happening?”
Before I could answer, Jack, a longtime family friend, approached us in amazement. “Mary! You’re back in town? It’s been ages!”
Mary smiled uneasily. “Didn’t exactly announce it. I’m here for… my wedding.”
Jack glanced at me, incredulous. “Alex, you’re marrying Mary the Charity Princess? Her family’s among the top philanthropists statewide!”
My heart sank. Charity Princess. I’d heard the nickname, but never connected it to her.
As soon as we could escape the curious eyes, I pulled Mary aside. “So… Charity Princess?”
She sighed, averting her eyes. “Yes. My family owns the largest charity foundation. They live in this world, but I avoid it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, bewildered.
“Same reason you didn’t admit our marriage was fake,” she answered quietly. “I had my reasons too, Alex.”
“You knew it was fake from the start?” My voice betrayed my shock.
“I grew tired of my family pressuring me to marry for status,” she explained gently. “I wanted independence, freedom from expectations. Your proposal was a perfect escape.”
“You agreed because you also wanted to break free?” I asked incredulously.
Mary nodded slowly. “Seems we have something in common.”
I stared at her, realizing I’d severely underestimated her. She wasn’t just a naïve girl chosen to frustrate my parents; she was clever, determined, and fiercely independent—perhaps even more so than I was.
Suddenly, my earlier plans felt immature. I’d been busy rebelling, while Mary navigated her own struggle silently, willingly sacrificing her family’s wealth for genuine freedom. Respect surged within me.
One evening, as we reviewed upcoming charity events my mother insisted we attend, I caught myself admiring her. She noticed and looked up. “What is it?”
“I never realized how strong you really are,” I confessed nervously. “You’ve endured all of this without complaint. More than I could’ve done.”
She smiled softly, sincerity in her eyes. “I’m not doing it for them—I’m doing it for myself.”
In that instant, my feelings shifted dramatically. This was no longer a mere act of rebellion. I genuinely respected, admired, and wanted her.
“Mary,” I said carefully, “maybe it’s time we told the truth.”
She nodded, understanding exactly what I meant. This wasn’t a game anymore.
The following day, we gathered our parents. As we prepared to share the truth, an unexpected peace settled over me. For once, I felt ready to approach life honestly—with Mary beside me.