The Wedding

Remi's POV

I stood in front of an ornate mirror in the bridal suite, adjusting the lace on my wedding dress for the hundredth time. My hands trembled slightly, not from excitement, but from the nerves gnawing at my insides. I bit my lips in fear, again I was scared. I should be happy right? I was getting married to the man that I have crush on for years.

But I wasn't. Because he didn't love me. No, he hated me. He looked at me as if he wanted to strangle me. But yet, here I am, getting married to said man.

“Remember, Remi,” Aunt Victoria's voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and cold. Her blue eyes held no emotions as she tightened the corset. “Behave yourself. This is your chance to make something of your miserable life. Don’t screw it up.”

She acted as if she was putting a necklace around my neck but I know that her plan was if I mess up she would strangle me to death.

I bit back a retort, swallowing the bitterness that rose in my throat. Aunt Victoria’s words were a familiar sting, her face in its usual frown. I should have think nothing of it, already use to it but it stung. Like a bee.

I nodded mutely, knowing any response would only provoke her further.

I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes, emerald eyes shobe underneath the golden light, my blonde hair wad curled and pinned in all the right places.

An angel. That's what my mother use to call me.

But I didn't feel like an angel. More or less, I felt like a loss sheep.

Uncle Jacob's massive frame darkened the doorway, his bulk seeming to suck the air out of the room. "It's time," he growled, his voice like a rough scrape on wood. His gaze crawled over me, lingering on the lace of my dress, the pale oval of my face, the fingers I couldn't keep still. His eyes narrowed, his eyebrows beetling together in a scowl that made my skin prickle.

Then he said something that I couldn't hear. But I knew it was just spiteful words that's best known to himself.

I followed them out of the room, my legs moving mechanically as if they belonged to someone else. Each step down the hallway echoed in my ears, a countdown to a life I wasn’t sure I wanted. Rowan was probably waiting at the end of that aisle, the man I had admired from a distance, now the man I was bound to marry not by choice but by situation.

My aunt and uncle gave me one last look like a warning.

Then, without a word, they turned and disappeared into the chapel, leaving me alone in the bridal room. The silence that followed was oppressive, punctuated only by the soft creak of the chapel door as it swung shut behind them.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, as I waited for the door to open again. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, each one stretching out like an eternity. And then, I heard it.

A soft giggle escaped from the partially open door down the hallway, followed by a low, husky murmur that sent a shiver down my spine. My feet seemed to root themselves to the spot, refusing to move forward as. I tried my best not to move, I really did but curiosity got the better of me, and I moved closer, carrying my wedding gown with me, peeking through the crack.

What I saw made my stomach twist into a knot. Rowan, my soon-to-be husband, was entwined with two women, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs and lips. One woman's mouth was fused to his, her hands grasping his face as if she'd never let go. The other trailed kisses down his neck, her fingers digging into his skin like claws. Their laughter and the soft, wet sounds of their kisses filled the small room, making my skin crawl. For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

The world tilted, and I gripped the doorframe to steady myself, my mind reeling with shock and betrayal. I searched desperately for an explanation, some way to rationalize the scene in front of me, but there was no mistaking the truth. Rowan, my husband-to-be, was cheating on me, and just hours before our wedding.

He was having a threesome, tears, I could feel them in my eyes as my breath caught up in my throat. It can't be.

I thought I'd prepared myself for a loveless marriage, but nothing could have prepared me for this. The sight of Rowan, my soon-to-be husband, in a compromising position with not one, but two women, was a betrayal of a different kind,

And in a room so close to the chapel, where the priest and our guests waited, it was a slap in the face. I tried to blink back the tears, but they pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. My breathing came in short gasps as I struggled to process the scene before me.

Rowan was oblivious to the risk of discovery, too caught up in his own desires to care. He devoured the woman on her knees, his mouth claiming hers with a ferocity that made my stomach turn.

Suddenly I felt a shake. Aunt Victoria’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Remi! What are you doing? People have been waiting-” Her tone was a sharp whisper, full of venom, stopped as she followed my gaze and froze. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of panic. But it was quickly replaced by her usual cold composure.

“We’ll deal with this later,” she hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me away. “You will walk down that aisle and marry him, do you understand? Men cheat, you don't love him anyways. You know why you want to marry him, so hide those tears and say those vows. Do you understand?”

Numbly, I nodded. My thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind, but I let Aunt Victoria’s grip guide me towards the door.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and a sob burst forth from my throat, despite my attempts to stifle it.

The sound was like a wild animal, escaping from a place deep within me. Aunt Victoria's grip on my arm constricted, her fingers digging into my skin like talons. "Control yourself," she hissed, her voice low and urgent. But I couldn't. The scene before me was too much to bear. Rowan's betrayal, the women's laughter, the chapel's solemnity just a stone's throw away... it all combined to shatter my composure. I felt myself trembling, my vision blurring as tears streamed down my face.

"Remi, don't make a scene," Aunt Victoria hissed, her voice cold. Devoid of any emotions. "You'll ruin everything."

But I was beyond control. Tears poured down my face like a torrent, my body shaking with sobs as I stood there, paralyzed by shock and heartbreak.

Aunt Victoria's grip on my arm tightened, her nails digging into my skin like ice picks. "Remi, do you want your cousin to die?" she spat, her voice devoid of any warmth or compassion. “Would you be able to live knowing that it was your fault she died?”

I felt a fresh wave of tears rising up, but I forced them back, my throat constricting with the effort.

Two million dollars. That's what my dignity and self-respect were worth to Aunt Victoria and my so-called husband.

"You're a disgrace, Remi ," Aunt Victoria spat, her eyes flashing with anger. "You're embarrassing us all. Pull yourself together and let's get this over with. Stop being a wuss."

I nodded numbly, my mind racing with thoughts of escape, of fleeing this toxic situation and starting anew. But for now, I was trapped. Because she was right, I would never be able to live with myself.

If this marriage didn't kill me, the guilt would.

****

I stepped into the aisle, the guests’ eyes turned towards me, their faces a blur. The organ played on, and I forced one foot in front of the other. Rowan stood at the altar, looking every bit the dashing groom.

His lips held that smirk, that I have come to hate, his dark eyes, intense, was watching me like a wolf hunting his prey. His eyes moved down my body and then back to my face. His eyes met mine, and I saw no hint of the man I had just seen. His expression was calm, almost indifferent.

Cold.

I couldn't read him.

I didn't want to.

I had learned to keep my mouth shut during my years with my aunt and uncle. To be quiet. Silent like a bird even though you were dying.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but walk towards him.

But the more I think about my cousin on that sick bed, the more I step forward.

With each step, memories flashed in my mind. The years of neglect and abuse, the nights I cried myself to sleep, the moments I dared to hope for something better. And now, this. Marrying Rowan was supposed to be an escape, a chance at a new life.

But that illusion shattered the mom

As I reached the altar, Rowan took my hand. His touch was cold, devoid of any warmth or affection. The officiant began speaking, but the words blurred together, meaningless in my face.

“I do,” Rowan’s voice cut through my daze. I blinked, realizing it was my turn to speak.

The words caught in my throat. I looked up at Rowan, searching for something—anything—that might reassure me. But his eyes were hard, his smile forced.

“I...” My voice wavered. Aunt Victoria ’s gaze burned into me from the front row, a silent threat. “I do.”

The ceremony continued, a series of motions and vows that felt hollow. When Rowan kissed me, it was brief and cold, a mere formality. The guests cheered, but their applause felt distant, like it belonged to another world.

As we walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, I felt a strange detachment, as if I were watching someone else’s life unfold through a TV screen.

The chapel doors closed behind us, and the noise of the guests faded.

In the car, silence stretched between us. Rowan stared out the window, his expression unreadable. I wanted to ask him why, to demand an explanation for what I had seen. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Did you enjoy the scene?”

I blinked looking at him, “What?”

“You seemed to enjoy watching me sleep with other women, did it turn you on?”

I narrowed my gaze, “You are sick.”

Rowan smirked, “But yet you fell in love with me. I saw the love letters, the diary, your aunt showed them to me. I think you are the one that's sick cara mia.”

I turned away from him, saying no more as I twirled the ring on my finger.

The car started moving, taking us to the reception, to the rest of our lives.

As the city blurred past, I made a silent promise to myself. No matter how hard this life became, I would survive. For Jules, for the faint hope of something better, and for the woman I still believed I could be.

It's just six years. I can do it.