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The mere thought made me bitter and sad. I’d once married for love. I’d married the man who’d made me a better person.
Now, I was marrying a mobster who would just probably kill me if I didn’t agree to his whims.I wasn’t winning at life, I thought to myself wryly.
The stupid long hair was his idea, the wedding planner had informed me after the stylist left. Dario had even picked out my dress and bouquet.
Every choice had been made for me. He’d given me choices but had vetoed all my selections. I’m not sure why the wedding planner even bothered to ask me about my preferences when she knew Dario was going to have the wedding his way.
It washiswedding.Hisbig day. I was just along for the ride.
He controlled everything. I couldn’t wait for the day when it all came crashing down on him. Even the most controlling man had weaknesses. I was going to find them and exploit them.
“Miss, they’re ready for you,” said one of the wedding planner’s assistants, looking at me as if I was a sight to behold.
Finally, I looked in the mirror. The dress had a train long enough to cover the entire living room of my apartment. The dress itself was puffy, thankfully, so it hid my backside.
It was an off-white color—we couldn’t have white, after all. It wasn’t as if I were a virgin. I wanted to roll my eyes but forced myself not to when the wedding planner told me that.
I honestly looked like a princess on her wedding day. The wedding planner squeezed my arm, and then brought the clipboard she always had crushed against her chest and squealed in delight like a schoolgirl.
“This is my favorite part!”
She started to tear up. She must have been just as delusional as Dario.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said walking away from my reflection.
I refused to tarnish my memory of my first wedding day by pretending that this second wedding was something that I actually wanted. The joy of marrying a man I loved deserved to be prevented from being sullied by the experience of this second wedding day.
Jason and I had gotten married at the courthouse. I’d worn my best dress, which wasn’t saying much, and a pair of kitten heels. The locket from my mom had hung around my neck.Afterward, we’d celebrated with Luis and some of his other buddies from the force by having a reception turned potluck in our backyard. It had been perfect.
As the wedding music started, I was told exactly where to stand, and then someone opened the large doors leading to the room where I was to be married. There were at least three hundred people there. I didn’t know any of them.
For the first time, I thought of the magnitude of what I was doing. The voice in my head screamed for me to run away. I desperately wanted to.
And then Dario stepped within my line of sight. His stance said it all. I didn’t have a choice. I was the main star in the show he’d put together that day, and there was no way he would let me ruin his plans.
Feeling like I was in a dream turned into a nightmare, I forced my legs to move. I forced myself to breathe.
I was thankful for the veil that covered my face. For whatever reason, I began to cry.
I cried for Jason. I cried for the baby that I carried. And I cried for the sham of a marriage I was about to enter.
When I reached the end of the aisle, I wiped away my tears quickly before Dario raised my veil. I didn’t look at him. I looked everywhere but at him, but I could feel his eyes on me.
I went through the motions as the priest said his part. I mumbled my answers, feeling that with each word, my chest grew tighter and tighter.
It was as if I couldn’t even breathe. Maybe it was the corset, or maybe it was because I was having a panic attack.
Before I knew it, the priest was pronouncing us man and wife. I felt sick.
Dario leaned forward and kissed me. It took all my strength not to turn my face away. It was my wedding day. I didn’t feel joy or happiness. I felt alone and defeated.
He took my hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow, escorting me down the aisle as the well-wishers looked on.
I was a fraud.
The reception was uninteresting. I would have fallen asleep if Dario hadn’t been watching me like a hawk.
We were sitting at the front of the ballroom at a table reserved just for the bride and groom. There was no wedding party. Who would he have invited to stand up with us anyway? His murderous brother? And it wasn’t like I would have invited Luis.