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“Altering the dress,” she sneers. “You know very well that it was a gift from our family. To think you have the right to change it to suit your own whims.”
My cheeks flush with indignation. “I understand that the dress was a gift, but I didn’t think—”
“Obviously not,” she interrupts, her disdain palpable. “You just do what you want without a second thought.”
I try to hold back my tears. “Vanya, please,” I try to explain. “I always wanted a white—”
“That dress…it was our mother’s,” she cuts me off sharply.
I swallow hard, cursing myself for altering the antique dress without asking. Now, I’m beginning to understand her anger. “I’m so sorry, I should have spoken to you first—”
“This gown has been in our family for generations!” Vanya interrupts, incensed. “How dare you take scissors to it without permission?”
The other guests begin to take notice as her voice rises. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I promise, Vanya, I truly didn’t know it was your mother’s. Look, I still have the remaining material in my room. I’ll try to restore it, I swear,” I explain helplessly.
Vanya smirks, her eyes narrowing as she looks me up and down. “Listen carefully, Caterina,” she says, her voice dripping with condescension. “Do not play the damsel in distress here. I clearly sent a note with the dress, explaining its sentimental value. If you didn’t want to wear it, you shouldn’t have. But you went so far as to ruin our token of goodwill.”
I struggle to hold on to my composure, my heart pounding like a caged bird desperate for freedom.
“Vanya, I assure you, I’m not trying to play the victim here. I never received any note—” I begin, but she cuts me off, her voice rising in anger.
“Enough!” she snaps. “You think you can just waltz in here, ruin our heirloom, and expect us to welcome you with open arms? You’re delusional!”
I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. I know that patience is my only weapon against her hostility, but it’s becoming harder and harder to maintain my calm facade.
“Look, I understand that you don’t trust me,” I say softly, my voice barely audible above the din of the reception. “But please, give me a chance to prove myself. I never wanted any of this, the wedding, the dress…I’m trying—”
“Then why are you here?” she interrupts, her tone accusatory. “Why did you agree to this farce of a marriage if you didn’t want it?”
“Because I had no choice!” I burst out before I can stop myself, my anger finally getting the better of me. “Don’t you think I would have done anything to avoid this? But my father—”
“Apologize to her, Vanya,” Mikhail demands, his voice dripping with authority. The guests around us seem to collectively hold their breath, as if bracing for the impact of an impending storm.
“I will do no such thing,” Vanya retorts, her eyes narrowed in defiance. “You know as well as I do that she’s not one of us.”
“Enough!” Mikhail roars, silencing her instantly. The tension in the room is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and seething emotions. He steps closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over his sister. “Caterina is my wife, and you will respect her as such. If you have any concerns, you bring them to me. Is that understood?”
Vanya’s face reddens with anger, but she remains silent. I can see the resentment etched into her features, and I believe this conflict is far from over. But for now, she relents, giving me a short apology and a curt nod before turning on her heel and storming away from us.
As the sounds of forced laughter and clinking glasses resume around us, I shift my gaze to Mikhail, unsure of what to say or how to feel. His eyes soften as they meet mine, and he gently squeezes my hand in reassurance.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the noise of the reception. “I didn’t expect you to stand up for me like that.”
“Like it or not, we’re married now, Caterina,” he replies, a hint of sadness creeping into his eyes. “And I’m determined to make this work, even if it means facing down my own family.”
I swallow hard, unable to suppress the flicker of hope that sparks within me. Can we really overcome our past and find our way back to each other? The prospect seems daunting, almost impossible, but the warmth of Mikhail’s hand in mine gives me a glimmer of hope.
“Let’s get through this night, and then we’ll figure out what comes next,” he says, his voice steady and resolute. With one last look at the place where Vanya disappeared, I nod in agreement.
Chapter 9 - Mikhail
My heart aches as I watch Caterina sitting alone, her beautiful face clouded with sadness. She stares blankly ahead, lost in her own melancholy thoughts, no doubt still tormented by guilt over the ruined dress. I know Caterina well enough to recognize the tender heart hidden beneath that poised exterior. She would never intentionally hurt someone, especially family.
Seeing her like this, I feel an overwhelming urge to comfort her, to make her laugh and erase the pain in those striking green eyes. I approach slowly, not wanting to startle her.
“Hey, Bunny,” I say softly.
She glances up, a faint smile touching her lips at the old nickname. She wipes it off immediately, but at least I now know she’s somewhere in there, receptive to it. “Mikhail. I didn’t hear you approach.”
