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“Yeah, I won’t give up. Not ever, dad,” I whisper to my reflection in the mirror just as the door swings open.
I brace myself for Andrew and his obnoxious friends. But it’s not him. It’s a man that looks like Andrew. Except instead of being lean and lithe, this man is big and beefy. A long, full beard covers his face, and his gray blue eyes rake over me with curiosity.
Although he’s dressed in a tailored suit that perfectly hugs his large body, showing off broad shoulders and thick thighs, he doesn’t look the part of an Abernathy. He’s not polished with styled eyebrows and a close shave. He doesn’t smell of expensive colognes or have soft hands.
No, this man looks like he’s been running through the forest all day, and someone plucked him out of it and stuffed him in a suit. But they didn’t bother to try to tame his messy hair that’s tied at the nape of his neck or smooth the callouses on his hands. They didn’t shape those eyebrows into a perfect arch or demand he trim the curly beard. Something about the feral, untamed look calls to me. Makes me long to throw myself in his arms and beg him to carry me far, far away from here.
It finally clicks in my brain that this must be Andrew’s little brother. What was his name again? Andrew mentioned it once. Laughed about his brother being some silent mountain man before he launched into what I could only assume was a mocking imitation of a man barely able to speak.
I adjust my veil, trying to act uninterested by his presence, even as my stomach tightens. My heart races, and I fight to keep my breathing even. Why is it suddenly so hot in here? Why does the room feel so small now that the mountain man is in here?
He looks like he wants to say something. He licks his full bottom lip and opens his mouth. But nothing comes out. Why I’m disappointed that I don’t get to hear the gruff stranger’s voice, I don’t know.
Instead, I force a smile and step forward. If I’m going to destroy these people from the inside out, I need to play nice. “Hi, I’m Cadence.”
He nods at me. I’m still disappointed that he hasn’t let me hear his voice. Is it deep and growly, as unrefined and gruff as he is?
“It’s nice to meet the last member of the family.” I clutch my wedding dress, like that will somehow remind my traitorous body that this is not my groom. “Your family is very nice.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder, his touch searing me even through the thin material of the wedding dress. He’s branding me without a word, making me long to be his. For a moment, I could swear that I see attraction flash in his gaze.
But then the door is swinging open again and he’s already snatched away his hand.
Andrew swaggers into the room, his usual entourage behind him. I don’t think the man sneezes without an audience. After all, his fragile ego needs constant applause and frequent strokes.
The thought of consummating with this vile man-child is repulsive. But one icky night and then it will be over. I will not give Jack Abernathy any ammunition to say it wasn’t a real marriage.
“Oh, good. You met her,” Andrew slurs. He’s drunk again. He’s usually drunk, and truthfully, I don’t care.
I turn back to the mirror and pretend to fuss over my appearance rather than give him an ounce of my attention. But in the mirror’s reflection, my gaze goes to his brother. He reaches for Andrew’s sloppy tie as if he’s the older brother.
“She’s a fuckin’ hippo,” Andrew complains.
I ignore the comment. I already know that Andrew finds my body revolting. He hasn’t once hidden his disgust over this marriage or his contempt for my body. He thinks I’m some poor maiden that’s lucky to be blessed with a gem like him. In his mind, I should be grateful for any scrap of affection he throws my way.
Well, I’m not desperate and I’m not grateful. I’m in love with my curves and one day, I’ll find a man that loves them too.
“Put her fat ass on a diet,” one of the groomsmen suggests. He’s dealing cards. Andrew always has a game going. A chronic gambler, it’s little wonder that his parents dole out cash to him. They’re giving him a large payday for going through with this wedding and he gets a stipend for every month he stays married to me.
“Everyone knows that whales don’t diet,” a different groomsman says. I forget his name, but he’s the one who propositioned me at our engagement party. Yeah, Andrew’s friends are real winners.
I risk another covert glance at Andrew’s brother. Beneath his bushy beard, his jaw is tight, and his hands are clenched into fists. He’s not really angry, is he? Surely, he knows what his brother and his friends are like.
