POV: BeatriceThe stems of my bouquet bent beneath my grip, each step down the aisle tightening my hold until the fragile blooms threatened to break. The sight before me was every bit as pristine as the planners had intended: white chairs perfectly aligned, delicate flowers swaying in the ocean breeze, and a makeshift altar framed by the endless horizon. Yet, for all its beauty, the scene felt hollow, each detail mocking me with its cheerful façade. My eyes locked on my father, stationed near the altar beside my aunt. His presence felt like an intrusion. I’d refused his offer to walk me down the aisle—one small victory in a war I was otherwise losing. He didn’t deserve the honor of giving me away, not after dragging me into this arrangement. The music swelled, and all at once, dozens of faces turned toward me. Strangers, most of them, their gazes curious, expectant. I ignored them, keeping my focus fixed ahead. My cousins, seated in the front row, stood out among the crowd. Their
Last Updated : 2024-12-25 Read more