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It takes me forever to get dressed, and even longer to do my hair and make-up. My mother pops her head into the room just as I’m zipping up the lavender-colored V-neck mini-dress that she picked out for me. It’s shorter than I would like, but it’s very pretty.
“Gorgeous. The lavender really brings out the color of your eyes.”
“Thanks,” I somehow manage to say. Directing my attention to the mirror in front of me, I stare at my reflection for a few long seconds. I don’t recognize the girl looking back at me. She’s weak and missing a backbone, but I’m not sure how to help her, how to make her stronger, without putting those I care about in danger.
“Are you ready, sweetie? We’re all waiting for you.”
“I’m ready,” I say, my voice somber.
Together with my mother, I walk out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and to the grand staircase. As we descend the stairs, my mother leans into me. She’s smiling at Matt, his father, and my father, who are waiting at the bottom of the steps.
“Do not do anything to mess this up; otherwise, you know what will happen.” The warning is clear, and I wish so badly that I didn’t have to play by their rules. My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together at the effort it takes me to keep my mouth shut. I want to tell her off, but what’s the point? It won’t change what’s going to happen.
When we reach the bottom of the steps, my jaw is aching, and my stomach is twisted in knots. Matt reaches for me, and I place my hand in his, the heat of his touch radiating through me. I wish I could hate Matt, but I don’t. As bad as all of this is, he’s been the only person to show me even a tiny bit of compassion.
“We will meet you at the church.” My father’s authoritative voice rains down on me like acid. I ignore him completely, uncaring to what he has to say at this point.
“Are you okay?” Matt whispers into the shell of my ear as we walk out the front door, and toward the car that’s waiting for us.
“Yes,” I lie. I’m not okay, not even close, but complaining about it won’t change anything.
“Good, you look beautiful tonight, and even more beautiful with that engagement ring on your finger. I can’t wait to show you off to the world as my wife,” Matt teases, a hint of flirtation to his words, but I don’t have it in me to even make an effort to flirt back.
“I’m sorry, this is just… it’s hard for me,” I say as he helps me into the car.
He climbs in behind me and places his hand against my bare thigh. I drop my gaze to where he’s touching me. It seems wrong, like he’s taunting me with his touch or something. I can’t want Matt, not when my heart belongs to another.
“We’re going to be married tomorrow, and though our love isn’t real, we have to pretend to an entire room of people today and tomorrow that it is.”
He’s right, but I just don’t care. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I just want to get married and escape the tower my parents have locked me up in.
As if he can sense my uncaring attitude his lips press into a hard line, making him appear almost angry. Great, I’ve just pissed my soon to be husband off, the only person that seems to care about my wants. Maybe I should be a little nicer to him… more grateful that he is not a total jerk to me, because truthfully if he were, there would be nothing I could do. I would still marry him to protect the Bishops. I would do anything to ensure their well-being.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I really am. I wish things were different.”
“Yeah, me too…” He says with a shake of his head as he turns and directs his attention out the window, like the passing trees are better company than me or something.
The rest of the drive is uneventful, as is the rehearsal. Shelby is there too, as my maid of honor, and even though her presence gives me comfort, it is not enough to make me feel anything else besides dreadful.
We run through the events that will take place for the day tomorrow, and it takes everything inside me to follow through with every step, and every word. Matt doesn’t skip a beat, and even smiles at me a few times, but in his eyes, beneath the fake façade, I can see anger brewing.
And slowly, the realization starts to sink in…
Am I really going to marry him tomorrow?
Before it was always, yeah, I’m going to do this, but now it’s really happening. In just twenty-four hours I am going to be married to a man I don’t love.
