The Stranger
Elara had never understood the appeal of clubs.
The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, and there were too many people moving around as though personal space had never existed.
She stood near the edge of the room, watching her friend dance.
Her friend, unlike her, looked as though she had been waiting her entire life for this moment.
Elara sighed.
She should never have agreed to come.
But she had promised herself she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
The last time her friend had gone somewhere with a man they barely knew, Elara had left because something about him made her uncomfortable. Nothing had happened, thankfully, but that hadn't stopped everyone from telling her what she should have done.
She should have stayed.
She should have followed her friend.
She should have protected her.
She had listened to all of it.
So when her friend decided she wanted to go out again, Elara had reluctantly agreed to accompany her.
Not because she wanted to be there.
Because she cared about her.
She checked her phone.
Still no message.
She looked toward the dance floor.
Her friend was laughing now.
At least she was having fun.
Elara leaned against the wall and tried to make herself invisible.
"You're either having the worst night of your life or you're plotting your escape."
She turned.
A stranger stood beside her.
She hadn't even noticed him approach.
He looked around her age, perhaps a little older. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and there was something effortlessly composed about him that didn't quite fit with the chaos of the club.
Elara looked at him for a moment.
Then at the dance floor.
Then back at him.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Very."
She almost smiled.
"I don't like clubs."
"Then why are you here?"
She pointed toward her friend.
"Her."
He followed her gaze.
"You're here to supervise?"
"Something like that."
He laughed.
"That's unfortunate."
"Extremely."
He smiled.
She turned her attention back to the dance floor, expecting the conversation to end.
It didn't.
"So what do you normally do for fun?"
"Things that don't involve being deaf by midnight."
He laughed again.
Elara found herself smiling.
Maybe he wasn't so bad.
They continued talking.
Nothing important at first.
The music.
The club.
Her friend's sudden interest in nightlife.
His friends.
He told her he had come with a group of friends for a reunion, but had stepped away for a little while.
Elara didn't ask more.
She didn't really care who he was.
That was probably why talking to him felt so easy.
Eventually, their conversation drifted toward relationships.
"I don't date," Elara said.
He looked at her.
"At all?"
"Not really."
"Why?"
She shrugged.
"I don't like the idea."
"Have you ever tried it?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
She gave him a look.
"I've watched enough movies."
He laughed.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Movies?"
"Not just movies. Stories. Books. Shows."
She folded her arms.
"Dating looks exhausting."
"That's your conclusion?"
"Yes."
He smiled.
"Why?"
She thought about it.
"Because you meet someone, you start liking them, then you get attached. And once you're attached, they have the power to hurt you."
He studied her.
"That's a very pessimistic way to look at love."
"It's realistic."
"According to whom?"
"Me."
He chuckled.
"And what would you prefer?"
"Marriage."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Marriage?"
"Yes."
"Instead of dating?"
"Exactly."
He stared at her as though she had just suggested something completely absurd.
Elara shrugged.
"I don't see the point of dating five, six, seven people just to eventually marry one of them."
"And your solution?"
"Skip to the marriage."
He laughed.
"I'm beginning to understand why you don't date."
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
She sighed.
"I just think marriage is simpler."
"Marriage is simpler?"
"Maybe."
She knew it sounded strange.
But there was a part of her that genuinely believed it.
She had watched too many stories about arranged marriages.
Two strangers brought together by circumstances.
A marriage neither of them expected.
A husband who slowly fell in love with his wife.
A wife who discovered that the man she thought she knew nothing about was actually the person she had been waiting for.
It was unrealistic.
She knew that.
But there was something beautiful about it.
She had always liked the idea of two people beginning with a promise and discovering love afterward.
"So," he said, "you'd marry a stranger?"
"No."
"Then we're back to the beginning."
She laughed.
"He would have to meet certain requirements."
"Such as?"
She thought for a moment.
"Responsible."
He nodded.
"Good."
"Kind."
"Reasonable."
"Strong."
"Important."
"Someone who actually wants marriage."
His expression became slightly more thoughtful.
"And?"
She hesitated.
"Financially stable."
He smiled.
"Of course."
"I'm not saying he has to be a billionaire."
"That's reassuring."
She ignored him.
"I just don't want to struggle because my husband can't take care of himself."
"Anything else?"
She looked at him.
"Someone from a good family."
He raised an eyebrow.
"That's a long list."
"I've watched enough romance movies."
"Clearly."
She laughed.
Then he asked quietly,
"And if you found someone who met all those requirements?"
She shrugged.
"I'd marry him."
There was a pause.
Then he said,
"Marry me."
Elara stared at him.
"What?"
"Marry me."
She laughed.
He didn't.
The smile slowly disappeared from her face.
"You can't be serious."
"Why not?"
"Because we just met."
"We've been talking for a while."
"That's not the same thing."
"Why?"
"Because this is real life."
He smiled.
"You're the one who said you'd rather skip dating."
"I didn't mean with the first stranger who asked."
"Why not?"
"Because that's insane."
"Maybe."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're drunk."
"A little."
"A little?"
He nodded.
"Enough to be honest."
Elara shook her head.
"This is exactly why I don't like situations like this."
"What situations?"
"Men saying ridiculous things because they've had too much to drink."
He laughed.
Then his expression softened.
"I'm serious about marriage."
She looked at him.
For some reason, that answer made her pause.
He continued.
"You said you want someone who actually wants marriage."
"Yes."
"I do."
"You don't even know me."
"Neither do you know me."
"Exactly."
"So we're even."
She almost laughed.
He was impossible.
And yet...
There was something strangely convincing about him.
Perhaps it was the confidence.
Perhaps it was the way he spoke as though the decision had already been made.
Or perhaps it was simply the fact that he was saying exactly the sort of things she had spent years imagining.
A stranger.
An unexpected proposal.
Marriage before love.
It sounded ridiculous.
It sounded impossible.
It sounded like something from one of her stories.
She looked at him again.
"This isn't real."
"Maybe it is."
She shook her head.
"You're feeding my fantasies."
"Then maybe your fantasies aren't so bad."
She laughed.
"You really want to marry me?"
"Yes."
"Tonight?"
"Tonight."
She stared at him.
Then, almost against her better judgment, she asked,
"And where exactly would we get married?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Church."
She blinked.
"You're serious."
"Very."
Elara looked toward her friend.
She should go.
She knew she should.
Instead, she looked back at the stranger.
"Fine."
His eyebrows lifted.
"Fine?"
"One condition."
"What?"
"If we're doing this, we're doing it properly."
His smile appeared slowly.
"Agreed."
She shook her head.
"This is going to be a disaster."
"Probably."
And somehow, they left the club.
---
The church was quiet.
The sudden silence felt almost unreal after the noise they had left behind.
Elara stood beside him, staring at the altar.
This was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Yet she was still there.
She was sober.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
She knew this man was a stranger.
She knew they had met only hours ago.
And still, something about the entire night felt strangely familiar.
Like a scene she had watched before.
Only this time, she wasn't watching from a sofa with a bowl of popcorn in her lap.
She was standing inside the story.
The priest looked between them.
Then at Elara.
"Are you certain?"
She took a breath.
For a moment, she almost laughed.
What kind of question was that?
She looked at the man beside her.
He looked back.
"Yes," she said.
The ceremony began.
The words washed over her.
Promises.
Vows.
Commitment.
She listened carefully.
And with every word, the absurdity of what she was doing became strangely beautiful.
This was the part she had always imagined.
The unexpected love story.
The impossible beginning.
The moment when two strangers became something more.
She looked down at the ring on her finger.
For a few seconds, she forgot everything else.
The club.
Her friend.
The fact that she had met this man only hours ago.
The fact that tomorrow, this entire night might seem completely insane.
For now, she simply let herself believe.
Perhaps this was what it felt like when fantasy and reality met.
Perhaps some stories really did begin this way.
And then—
a scream came from outside.
"ELARA!"
Her eyes widened.
Her friend.
She turned immediately.
The spell was broken.
The church was still there.
The man was still beside her.
The ring was still on her finger.
But the fantasy had already slipped away.
Her friend screamed her name again.
Elara hurried toward the doors.
Behind her, the man she had just married remained where he was.
The alcohol had finally begun to win.
By the time the priest returned, he was asleep.
The priest knew someone who could safely take care of him for the night, so there was no reason to wake him.
Outside, Elara was already with her friend.
The night continued.
And somehow, the strangest thing she had ever done became just another strange event in a very long night.
She left the church.
He remained behind.
And by morning, life would continue as though nothing had happened.
At least, for now.
Because somewhere inside a quiet church in London, a young man was sleeping with a wedding ring on his finger.
And somewhere else, the woman wearing the matching one had already forgotten why it was there.
