THE WEDDING

CARDY FOSTER'S POV

I dialled my father's number, urgency tingling in my fingertips. Elliot's words needed to be relayed, their weight pressing on my conscience. Little did I know, my father was already aware, informed by Elliot himself, though reasons remained elusive.

Cornered by this unexpected revelation, I had no alternative but to embrace its truth. My father possessed knowledge beyond my reach, leaving me with no room to contest the matter.

Elliot emerged, his voice laced with a biting cruelty that chilled me to the core. "Never again," he seethed, "dare to engage in argument with me. Your autonomy is forfeit. I wield control over you, free to exercise my whims as I please."

Defiance surged within me, compelling me to refute his claim. "You do not, and never will, own me," I mustered the courage to declare. In response, he forcefully pulled me from my seat, pinning me against the unyielding wall.

"Never entertain the notion of challenging me again, let alone voicing it aloud," he hissed, his grip tightening as tremors overtook my trembling form. The fear of what he might do consumed me, coercing me into silence, lest he strangle the life from my fragile frame.

Finally, he released his grasp, his body collapsing to the floor. Tears beckoned at the corners of my eyes, yet their release was denied. My vision swirled in disarray, as though I had just emerged from a battle with a malevolent monster.

The grand day we had eagerly anticipated had arrived, its arrival catching me unprepared. Fate, however, held sway over my circumstances. As we made our way towards the church, I donned my wedding gown and felt a semblance of royalty.

Inwardly, I lamented, wishing that this auspicious occasion unfolded with the right person by my side. The preparations had been meticulous, fulfilling the desires I had harbored for so long. Alas, destiny dictated that I partake in this sacred union with the wrong individual.

As we arrived at the church, the heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing a sacred sanctuary adorned with delicate flowers and soft candlelight. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, and the congregation warmly welcomed our presence. My heart fluttered as my father, a pillar of strength, guided me gracefully towards the ornate altar.

Yet, a peculiar sense of elation washed over me, casting a surreal aura upon the moment. It was as if I had been transported into a parallel universe, where happiness coexisted with an inexplicable uncertainty. Glancing at Elliot, my soon-to-be spouse, I noticed an absence of joy upon his countenance. Not a trace of a smile adorned his lips, nor a flicker of excitement danced in his eyes.

A mischievous thought invaded my mind, intermingling with the wedding jitters. "Why has Elliot never kissed me?" I pondered silently. A whisper of doubt crept in, conjuring vivid imagery of an unpleasant surprise awaiting me. What if his breath was foul, an olfactory assault I would have to endure in front of all our loved ones?

Suppressing these whimsical thoughts, I turned my attention back to my father. A warm smile graced my lips, a gesture of gratitude for his unwavering support. As the ceremony commenced, with the pastor's soothing voice resonating through the sacred space, destiny stood poised to weave its intricate tapestry.

Suddenly, amidst the sacred silence, a thunderous voice reverberated through the speakers, sending shockwaves through the assembled crowd. It was a voice both hauntingly familiar and deeply unsettling, yet I couldn't place its origin.

The doors of the church swung open, admitting a gust of wind and a figure cloaked in darkness. With a microphone clutched tightly in his hand, he strode forward accompanied by a troupe of menacing accomplices. Fear gripped my heart, for in that moment, I beheld the face of my sinister ex-lover.

"I love you, and I will have you back. No one but me is worthy of your hand in marriage," his voice seethed with possessiveness, his words an ominous declaration.

A surge of panic overwhelmed me as I realized the danger lurking within these hallowed walls. Desperate to escape the clutches of impending doom, I leaned towards Elliot, my voice a trembling whisper. "Please, we must flee before he unleashes his wrath upon you or anyone else," I implored.

With unwavering determination, Elliot clasped my hand firmly, pulling me towards an inconspicuous exit behind the altar. The sounds of gunfire erupted, shattering the sanctity of the sacred space, but we were already gone. Our feet pounded against the pavement as we raced through the streets, my billowing bridal gown becoming an unwieldy burden. Tears streamed down my face, borne from a torrent of emotions. How had my joyous day taken such a tragic turn? And what of my father, still trapped within those perilous walls?

"Please, let me go back and rescue my father from that monster," I pleaded, attempting to free my hand from Elliot's grasp. Yet, he held on tightly, unyielding in his resolve.

"I care not for your father; my only concern is what is rightfully mine, and you, my dear, belong to me now," his voice was laced with possessiveness and determination as we continued our desperate flight.

"But the wedding has been cancelled," I protested, hoping reason would penetrate the darkness clouding his judgment. His gaze met mine, filled with a chilling intensity that sent shivers down my spine. We hailed a passing cab and climbed inside, our getaway vehicle hurtling away from the scene of chaos.

I stood there, perplexed and puzzled, my heart weighed down by a tangle of unanswered questions. The words echoed in my mind, resonating with a hint of disbelief. "You asked to marry me but you never showed any sign of liking or intimacy with me. Then why did you want to marry me?" I finally mustered the courage to confront Elliot as we stepped through the threshold of our home, a place that felt unfamiliar and distant.

His weary gaze met mine, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips, carrying with it a mix of exhaustion and resignation. The timbre of his voice resonated deep within me, leaving an indelible mark on my soul. "Better go inside and rid yourself of those burdens you carry," he advised, his words laced with an air of finality. "Wedding or no wedding, our union has already been cemented in the eyes of the law."

He turned away, his suit frayed at the edges, bearing witness to battles fought, wounds endured. It was as though he had weathered a storm, a lone warrior standing tall against a relentless onslaught. The evidence of his struggles adorned his tattered attire, speaking volumes about the strength that lay beneath.

Interrupted by the sudden intrusion of another matter, a call came in, breaking the fragile tension that hung in the air.

 "Hello! Your father is nowhere to be found..."