I

Turning down her only chance in getting a happily ever after had been both pointless and senseless, realised Chaerin. She needed somewhere to go, she needed something to take her mind off recent events and right now she was hesitating on the curb, spinning her head left and right, looking at something  or someone who might helped her in giving her what she needed. She could hear the murmur of voices as the passer by walked around her; they were questioning among themselves at the peculiar sight of her; barefooted in a white wedding gown.

            Her eyes suddenly locked at a young man who recently coming out from the groceries store down the road. She sprinted to the silver old truck, that guy was nearing, opening the door and tossing the paper bags onto the back seat. She huffed on her way, ignoring the pain on her feet and hurriedly opening the passenger door of the dusty truck. As she safely inside, she realised that the truck was not silver but red, as red as its owner’s face.

            She gulped as the man occupying the driver’s seat.

            “Excuse me, Senorita, but I think you just made a mistake. This is not the pumpkin carriage,” he said eyeing her up and down with a smirk. “And I’m certainly not a mouse.”

            She flushed but she kept a straight face, avoiding his playful gaze. “No, I’m not. Please, drive away.”

            He blinked. His mind trying hard to understand the situation. He looked behind the back of his truck. Is someone after her? Is she running away from marrying a mafia? he wondered. He turned to stare at the runaway bride and his confusion deepened.

            “Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked. “I can drive you.”

            Chaerin kept her silent, looking outside to the entrance of the market. The crowd stared at them for a while, presumably because of her dress, exchanging whisper and knowing look and then they dispersed and were now prepared to carry on their daily lives as though nothing had happened.

            She wished that nothing had happened, that nothing had changed, that she was still in the mansion, married to the man she loved and that she hadn’t ran away.

            “Anywhere would be fine,” she answered, belatedly realising that the man was still looking closely at her with a frown digging deep into his forehead.

            “Are you hurt?” he asked as his eyes roamed to her dress and noticed a rough tear on the delicate fabric and how dirty the gown looked now.

            Chaerin registered for the first time that the man wasn’t really fair skinned. He was a bit of tanned, sun burned and dark haired-hair that looked as could do with cutting, she observed, hair that looked as though it wanted to curl and he had a high playful voice. “I’m not hurt. You can start the car now.”

            “You are hurt,” he insisted. Maybe there’s something wrong with her head, he thought. “Allow me to take you home; maybe that’s better. Or do you need a doctor, should I take you to…”

            “No, I’m fine. Please, can we get out from here now,” she urged.

            “Then home it is.”

            “No!" declared Chaerin, more strongly this time. She had no home; she’d just walked out. She couldn’t bear to go back there again.

            "In that case, I will take you home with me,” he declared imperatively. “If you don’t have anywhere to go, you can come with me. And I’m going home.”

            Chaerin didn’t have a reason to protest further. So she held her arms closed to her body and leant her head on the window. She stared blankly at the windscreen while the truck roared to live.

            “I can manage,” she exclaimed when he reached for her seat belt. But he ignored her, insisting on fastening it himself. In such close proximity, his cologne filled the air around her. Musky and woody, not one that she had smelled before. It suited him just fine. It was strange how this thought popped into her head. He was making a big impact on her, that was for sure, but she sincerel