Agatha followed Mr. David into the house, feeling small and out of place.
The rooms were large, the floors so clean that they reflected the light above.
She had never lived in such Comfort before.
But instead of Happiness, all she felt was fear.
The wedding had felt like a dream, but this, this was real now.
And tonight she was expected to share a bed with her husband.
Her heart raced.
She had never been with a man before.
Mr. David noticed her discomfort.
He turned to her and smiled gently.
“Agatha, I know this is new for you,” he said softly. “You don’t have to be afraid. Feel free. This is your home now.”
She nodded, but her hands were still trembling.
After a while, she excused herself and went to the bedroom.
It was huge, with a soft white bed, a golden mirror, and curtains that flowed like water.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, her heart beating fast.
A few moments later, Mr. David entered.
He walked over and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll take a shower first,” he said kindly. “You can rest.”
She nodded again, unable to speak.
Mr. David picked up a towel and walked into the bathroom.
She listened as the water began to run.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Then two.
The water kept running.
Why was he taking so long?
Agatha’s fear returned.
Was something wrong?
She glanced at the bathroom door, her breath shallow.
Should she knock?
Should she call out his name?
Her hands gripped the bed sheet.
Something didn’t feel right.
Agatha sat on the bed, her hands clasped tightly together.
The sound of running water filled the room.
An hour passed, then two.
She kept glancing at the bathroom door, wondering why Mr. David was taking so long.
Her heart was uneasy.
She thought of knocking, but something held her back.
What if he needed privacy?
What if something was wrong?
Her body felt heavy with exhaustion.
The day had been long, the wedding, the journey, the overwhelming New Life.
Her eyes grew tired.
She lay down slowly, telling herself she would just rest for a moment.
But before she knew it, sleep took her.
A sudden sound woke her.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The bathroom door creaked.
She sat up quickly, her heart racing.
The shower was still running, but the man stepping out of the bathroom was not Mr. David.
Agatha froze.
A young man stood before her, tall, strong, handsome.
His hair was wet, his face smooth and Youthful, his body wrapped in a towel.
Agatha’s breath caught in her throat.
She didn’t know him.
Her body went cold with fear.
Where was Mr. David?
Who was this man?
She screamed.
She stumbled back, her hands grabbing the bed sheets, her whole body shaking.
“Who are you?” she cried.
The young man raised his hand slowly, as if to calm her.
“Agatha,” he said Softly.
She gasped.
That voice.
She knew that voice.
It was Mr. David’s voice.
But how?
Agatha shook her head.
This had to be a trick, a dream, a nightmare.
“No. No, this isn’t real,” she whispered, whed her voice breaking.
The young man stepped closer.
“It’s me.”
Agatha’s whole world began to spin.
She sat Frozen, her body stiff with fear and confusion.
The young man in front of her looked nothing like Mr. David.
But his voice, it was the same.
She shook her head, trying to make sense of what was happening.
Then he stepped closer.
Before she could move, he gently pulled her into his arms.
His hands were warm, firm, steady.
“Agatha,” he whispered.
Then he kissed her.
His lips were slow, soft, and deep, filling her with an unfamiliar warmth.
Her heart pounded.
For a moment, just for a moment, she forgot everything.
The room disappeared.
The fear melted.
All that remained was the kiss.
But then reality Came Crashing back.
“No!”
She pushed him away, her breath uneven, her body shaking.
She stumbled backward, gripping the edge of the bed for support.
“Where is my husband?” she cried, tears filling her eyes.
The young man sighed.
“Agatha, listen to me.”
“No!” she screamed. “I don’t know you. Where is my husband? Where is Mr. David?”
She ran toward the bathroom, expecting to see the old man she had married.
But it was empty.
She spun around, her chest rising and falling in panic.
The young man stepped forward again.
“I am your husband.”
Agatha shook her head violently.
“No. No, this is a lie.”
She fell to her knees, sobbing.
The young man knelt beside her.
He didn’t touch her this time.
He simply spoke.
“Agatha, I know this is hard to believe, but I am Mr. David. I have always been Mr. David.”
She lifted her head, her face streaked with tears.
“How?”
He took a deep breath.
“I use special makeup to look old.”
Her eyes widened.
“Why?” she whispered.
He looked at her, his expression gentle but serious.
“Because I needed to know who you really were.”
Agatha swallowed hard.
“My grandfather once told me a good woman is not found with money, but with wisdom. I have wealth, Agatha, more than most people can imagine, but I did not want a wife who only wanted my money. I wanted a woman with a kind heart, a strong spirit, and a love that is true.”
He paused.
“I had heard about you, your struggles, your kindness, your sacrifices for your family. I wanted to see if it was real or if you, like many others, would marry for riches alone.”
Agatha’s heart pounded.
Everything was spinning.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
“I don’t care how you look,” she said, her voice trembling. “I just want my husband back.”
She stood up, her body shaking.
“He may be old. He may be wrinkled. But he is kind, and I have already promised to take care of him.”
Her hands clenched into fists.
“I will not be fooled by appearances.”
The young man sighed, his eyes filled with something Agatha could not understand.
“Agatha,” he said softly, “do you remember an old man you once helped?”
She frowned, confused.
“What?”
“When you were a cashier in the city,” he continued, “there was an old man who came to your shop one evening. He was tired, weak, and struggling to pay for his food, saying his wallet was stolen. You paid for him and helped him to a seat.”
Agatha’s heart skipped a beat.
She did remember.
It was a cold rainy evening.
An old man had walked in looking exhausted.
He had counted his coins with shaking hands, realizing he didn’t have enough money.
She had seen the pain and embarrassment in his eyes.
Without thinking, she had paid for his food.
She had even brought him warm tea and sat with him until he felt better.
It was a small act of kindness.
She had not thought much of it.
Now this stranger was bringing it up.
“Why? Why are you telling me this?” she whispered.
The young man smiled sadly.
“That old man was my grandfather.”
Agatha froze.
“He never forgot what you did for him that day,” he continued. “He told me that he had met an angel, a woman with a pure heart. He wanted to know more about you.”
Agatha’s breath caught in her throat.
“He did a background check on you, Agatha. He learned about your struggles, your family, and your sacrifices. And he came to me with a request.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
“He asked me to marry you.”
Agatha’s mind went blank.
“At first, I refused,” he admitted. “I didn’t believe in arranged marriages. I didn’t want to marry someone I had never met. But then…”
He swallowed hard.
“My grandfather passed away.”
Agatha’s heart twisted.
“His last wish before he died was for me to marry you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I wanted to honor his wish, but I didn’t want to be forced into marriage. So I came up with a plan. I disguised myself as an old man to test you, to see if you were really as kind and compassionate as my grandfather believed.”
Agatha sat stunned and Confused.
Everything she thought she knew was shattered.
“What I didn’t expect,” he added, “was to fall in love with you the moment I set Eyes on You.”
Agatha’s breath hitched.
“You have been nothing but an angel to me,” he said, “just like my grandfather said.”
She felt her world spinning.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The way he had listened to her.
The way he had treated her family with kindness.
And then he spoke the final words that made her heart stop.
“The Mr. David that the villagers know is my grandfather.”
He looked into her stunned eyes and whispered, “My name is also David.”
Agatha sat in silence, her mind spinning with emotions.
Everything she had believed, everything she thought was real, had changed.
Mr. David, the man she had agreed to marry, was never an old man.
He had tested her.
He had watched her.
He had fallen in love with her.
She looked at him, the young handsome man standing before her.
Could she trust him?
Her heart pounded as he suddenly clapped his hands.
The door opened.
Two people entered.
Makeup artists.
“Watch closely,” he said Softly.
She did.
For the next few hours, Agatha sat still as the artists worked on his face.
Layer by layer.
Wrinkle by wrinkle.
The young man slowly disappeared.
And then, before her eyes, Mr. David returned.
The same old wrinkled face she had come to know.
The same man she had vowed to take care of.
Tears filled her eyes.
She stood up, walked forward, and touched his face.
She could feel the makeup, the disguise.
But it didn’t matter anymore.
A sob escaped her lips.
She threw her arms around him.
“I don’t care how you look.”
Her voice broke.
“Young or old, I love you.”
David held her tightly.
“And I love you, Agatha.”
They stood there wrapped in each other’s arms, tears of relief and happiness flowing freely.
At that moment, nothing else mattered.
Not his age.
Not his appearance.
Not how their story began.
Only their love.
And from that day forward, they lived happily ever after.
