Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

Chapter 320: Can we now get you ready?

Jessica’s car glided slowly through the expansive gates of the Davis’s home. The gates had barely finished swinging open as it reacted instantly to the recognition of the car’s insignia and other security escorts rolled up behind, tailing at a safe distance.

As the vehicle pulled to a smooth stop in the curved driveway, a uniformed guard briskly approached and opened the back door.

With a graceful nod of appreciation, Jessica stepped out elegantly, her heels clicking softly against the marble driveway.

She paused briefly, her hand instinctively resting on her baby bump as she noticed its movement; a tender gesture that had become second nature.

The sun filtered through the trees, casting warm speckles of light onto the pristine white stones of the estate’s front yard.

Deborah, standing by the door in a neatly pressed apron, beamed as she watched Jessica approach. Her face adorned with a warm, welcoming smile, a warmth that could melt the thickest tension.

"You’ve worked so hard," Deborah said affectionately, wrapping Jessica in a gentle embrace as she slowly patted her back.

That embrace offered Jessica the solace of a mother figure that had long gone. She took a deep breath and stepped back casting a glance at her apron. She raised a brow "In the kitchen?"

Deborah gave a curt nod as she took the long coat and file folder from her hands and began leading her into the house.

Jessica returned the smile warmly as she followed her into the house, exhaustion lingering in her gaze but just as quickly, her nose twitched slightly, catching a familiar aroma in the air—the unmistakable scent of smoked fish, palm oil, and local spices simmering in harmony.

A loud growl erupted from her stomach, shocking her into a moment of sheepishness and a surprising hunger she hadn’t noticed until that moment.

Jessica’s cheeks reddened immediately in embarrassment at the audible rumble, prompting Deborah to laugh—a deep, heartening laugh, full of maternal fondness.

"Must be starving," Deborah teased. "Come on. Let me get you something to cushion your stomach."

She steered Jessica gently to the dining room, her steps light and brisk as she returned to the kitchen.

Moments later, Deborah returned from the kitchen balancing a tray with care and precision, like a seasoned waitress presenting a royal meal.

Another maid followed carrying a bowl of water for her to wash her hands after the day.

On the tray were portions of carefully selected traditional dishes—abacha and ugba, ji agwọro agwọ, ukwa, and a delicate plate of nkwobi as an aside. To top it off, a bowl of colorful fresh fruit salad acted as a sweet contrast, all presented in separate crystal bowls delicately plated in small quantities, giving Jessica the opportunity to sample all the dishes.

Jessica stared at the tray, her breath catching in her throat at the sight. The presentation alone was enough to pull tears from her eyes. Her shoulders sagged with relief as though the weight of the world had gently slipped off.

Her chest tightened as emotions swirled dangerously beneath the surface. Her eyes shimmered, tears threatening to surface. She blinked them away with effort, struggling to explain why this act of care of a home-cooked meal could leave her so vulnerable.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her spoon with a trembling hand and took a bite. The flavors exploded across her tongue, warm and familiar, and a soft smile lit up her lips.

"Mom... Deborah is really taking good care of me," she whispered softly.

"You eat up. You’ll probably be having a long day later," Deborah said kindly before retreating to the kitchen, leaving her in peace.

Looking at the tray of homemade meals—light, colorful, and delicious, Jessica felt the tension of the day melt from her shoulders. She closed her eyes briefly, gathering strength for what came next: the long-awaited fashion show.

She glanced at her phone on the table. Only fifty minutes before the Angels wear kicks off the show. So far, no notice of any mishap. She sighed contentedly "All good."

Taking a deep breath, she decided to go with the flow. But just then, her phone dinged. She paused mid-bite, gently set down her spoon, and picked up the device. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she read Davis’s message:

"As your fashion launch starts in the next few minutes, may I take this opportunity to wish you a successful debut... and an excellent position in the world of fashion." Attached was a flower and heart emoji.

Jessica’s smile deepened. "In a meeting, yet he still found time to message me. So caring," she murmured to herself.

Her fingers quickly moved over the keyboard:

"Thanks a lot. And can you please come home... like you promised?"

His response came faster than she expected: noveldrama

"Close by."

The simplicity of his message sent a warmth through her chest. Jessica smiled and set her phone aside, then finished the rest of her meal and rose from the table and made her way upstairs, her heart a little lighter than before.

Upstairs, the hallway to her bedroom felt unusually still. As she entered, her eyes were immediately drawn to the bed.

Three beautifully wrapped gift boxes, neatly arranged and placed neatly on the bed. They were of varying sizes, each topped with a ribbon tied to perfection.

Dropping her clutch onto the bedside table, she moved closer, without thinking her hand gliding over the smooth surface of each box, astonished. She didn’t need to guess what they contained, but one thought pulled at her mind:

"When did he prepare all this?" she murmured, half to herself, half to the silent room.

Then another whispered thought teased her lips: "Never thought launching a show could feel this special."

A mischievous grin pulled at her lips. She reached for her phone and typed quickly:

"Do you think I should be launching fashion shows every day just to get more surprises like this?"

Without waiting for a response, she began unboxing them.

Starting with the first, she carefully untied the ribbon and opened the lid.

Inside lay a breathtaking mermaid gown, the fabric cascading like liquid silk and lightly embellished and catching the light, beautifully reflecting the sunlight in dazzling flecks of silver and gold. It shimmered as she lifted it, revealing intricate hand embroidery that covered the bodice like delicate waves.

Jessica let out a small breath of awe as she gently ran her hand along the fabric. "It must be quite blinding under the stage lights."

She took a moment to study the craftsmanship. Her breath hitched as she gasped in realization. The gown bore the distinct signature of Lady Evelina, the matriarch of high fashion, a renowned fashion icon and one of the most elusive designers in the world.

Lady Evelina was not just expensive—she was one of the most exclusive designers in the industry, never designed on short notice.

Her calendar was booked months, if not years, in advance.

To get her to design on short notice? Nearly impossible.

And commissioning a dress from her was akin to securing royalty.

Jessica’s lips parted in disbelief. She had planned and dreamed of wearing a custom Evelina gown for years.

Her smile widened as the realization settled in—her longtime wish had been fulfilled. And the best part? She hadn’t even asked for it.

Yet a question quietly whispered in her mind:

"How did he remember I craved Lady Evelina’s design?"

Jessica had once mentioned when they were still in the wild that when she became great that she did own a custom Evelina piece as a designer she had known at that time—but that had been in passing, almost as a joke.

"What other things did he remember?" She murmured

She made a mental note to ask Davis once he got home.

She set the gown aside reverently and moved to the second box. With expectation of another surprise she untied the ribbon and opened the box.

Inside was a pair of silver kitten-heel slingback—elegant, tasteful, and perfectly suited for a pregnant woman who couldn’t manage the usual sky-high stilettos and the perfect match for the gown.

"Quite considerate, huh?" She murmured as she studied the design.

Jessica chuckled, her hand resting gently on her bump. "You’re already limiting my shoe options," she whispered lovingly. "But I guess comfort wins today."

Finally, her gaze settled on the last box—the smallest.

Her heart pounded. She could guess what it might be—a piece of jewelry, perhaps, but her heart raced all the same as the thought of what it could be sent excitement bubbling through her veins.

She felt hesitant, torn between curiosity and a mysterious sense of anticipation.

Carefully, she untied the ribbon. Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the lid.

Inside was a stunning platinum necklace, delicately crafted and shimmering like stardust.

She held it up to the light and it sparkled like starlight—simple, yet commanding.

Setting the necklace carefully on the bed beside the dress and shoes, she stepped into the bathroom for a quick bath. Warm water soothed her nerves, washing away the exhaustion of the day.

Just as she wrapped herself in a robe and stepped out, a soft knock tapped at the door.

She didn’t need to ask who it was. Deborah had a very distinct rhythm to her knock. Sure enough, when Jessica opened the door, Deborah stood there with Becky by her side.

Before she could say a word, Becky enveloped her in a joyful hug.

"Can we now get you ready?" she asked excitedly.