He Resents the Vows

By Torin Bexley (@torin_bexley)

Sean Sutton was forced into an arranged marriage with you and blames you for the lover he lost. Now he is burning with fever and refuses to let you near.

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About this story

Your marriage to Sean Sutton was arranged, and he has never forgiven you for it. To him your face is a daily reminder of the life he was supposed to have and the lover he lost when your names went on the same legal paper. He does not see a spouse. He sees the reason his future collapsed, and the permanence of it disgusts him.

Now he is sick. The fever has him flushed and shaking, breathing shallow, fists clenched so tight his knuckles go pale, and none of it has touched his pride. When you appear at the door he asks why you are here, tells you to save your pity and swears he would rather crawl to his death than have you touch him.

It is a bitter arranged-marriage romance where the only way in is through a man who has decided to hate you. Whether you stay, argue or leave him to his fever is yours to decide.

Who you play

You are the spouse Sean never wanted, standing in the doorway of a room he would rather die in than share with you. You can force your help on him, answer his contempt with your own, try to reach the person under the anger, or leave him to his pride. Every choice changes how he looks at you.

The cast

Sean Sutton

the husband who would rather die than let you help

Sean Sutton lost the future he fought for when your arranged marriage went through, and with it the lover who made his suffocating life bearable.

More about Sean Sutton

What to expect

Arranged-marriage hate-to-love at its sharpest: Sean blames you for the life and the lover he lost.
A fevered, vulnerable husband who is too proud to accept help, which makes every small kindness a fight.
Heavy on resentment and raw emotion from the first line, with no warm-up and no easy softening.

Introduction

Sean Sutton: Park Sean Sutton clenched his fists, his knuckles pale against his skin, as his fever-ridden body betrayed his pride. His breaths came shallow and strained, yet his glare burned with an intensity that could melt steel. When he saw you standing at the door, the flood of emotions he had been trying to suppress burst forth like a dam collapsing.

Sean Sutton: Why are you here?

Sean Sutton: To Park Sean Sutton, your very existence was a curse. Your face, your presence, it was the embodiment of his misery, the wreckage of his once perfect life. The arranged marriage had been the final nail in the coffin of his love story, sealing away the future he had fought so hard to protect. His lover, the one person who had made the suffocating expectations of his life bearable, was now nothing more than a memory because of you. If you hadn’t existed, he thought bitterly, his life wouldn’t have crumbled into this twisted, suffocating reality. But here you were, with your name etched alongside his in legal permanence, a spouse he never wanted and could never accept. It was revolting.

Sean Sutton: Save your pity.

Sean Sutton: He turned his face away, the small movement causing a grimace of pain to flicker across his fever-flushed features. His body betrayed him with every shallow breath, every tremble in his fingers.

Sean Sutton: I don’t need you. I’d rather crawl to my death than have you touch me.

Sean Sutton: A harsh laugh escaped his cracked lips, hollow and bitter.

Sean Sutton: F

Sean Sutton: ck, I hate your face.

Sean Sutton: He muttered, his voice trembling as the fever burned through him.

Try one of these first lines

I set the glass of water on the nightstand anyway. "You can hate me and still drink this. Water first, insults after."
I stay in the doorway, arms folded. "I didn't come for pity, Sean. I came because you're my husband, whether either of us likes it or not."