“Sweetheart, you look so beautiful,” my mother said, running her hand gently over my head. “Come on, please, just smile. It’s your wedding day.”
Looking into the mirror, the only thing I wanted to do was scream as loud as I could. But I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. Digging deep for a shred of self-control, I forced a smile onto my face.
“Yes, Mom,” I agreed quietly.
She let out a sigh, shaking her head slightly.
“I’ll leave you be. Your father will be here in ten minutes,” she said, heading for the door. Gripping the handle without turning it, she glanced back at me. “You know I love you so much, right?”
A lie. Every single word—a complete lie.
“I know,” I replied, instead of the truth I wanted to spit out.
She smiled at me and left the room.
Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at my somber eyes, hidden beneath layers of makeup. It aged me by five years and masked the traces of my reality—the one everyone refused to acknowledge. For once, my hair wasn’t tied up in a modest style. Curls spilled freely over my shoulders. All my life, I’d been told that a proper girl keeps her hair neatly braided. But this time, my father made an exception. Today, my entire life would be ruined, so they decided to wrap me up like a Christmas gift—which, in essence, I was.
Just a week ago, I’d been dreaming of starting college. I’d studied so hard for years, and for what? Only to find out that my parents had arranged my engagement long ago. The only reason I even finished high school was because it’s the law in this country. But no matter how long we’ve lived here, you can’t escape your roots. With a bitter smile, I glanced at my wedding dress. It was extravagant, the bodice encrusted with diamonds. A red ribbon cinched my waist, tied like a bow on a gift box. How ironic my life had become.
Suddenly, the door swung open. I assumed my time was up. But when I looked in the mirror, my eyes widened. Instead of my father, I saw a stranger reflected in the glass. I spun around to face him. He wore a sharp, dark three-piece suit. You might think he was a guest who’d wandered into the wrong room. But he didn’t rush to leave. Instead, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
The man looked me over with an appraising gaze. I couldn’t help but notice he was strikingly handsome: tall, with dark hair, a strong build, deep brown eyes, and a short, neat stubble.
“Who are you?” I asked, flustered.
His shadow loomed over me as he stepped closer. I watched him warily.
“The groom…” he said seriously. “Of the girl who’s cheating on me with your fiancé.”
My eyebrows shot up. What? My fiancé has a mistress?
“You mean she’s been cheating on you with him?” I asked, hoping for clarity.
Please, let him say that Rustam isn’t marrying me while he’s involved with someone else.
“No. I mean they both walked out of the bathroom together twenty minutes ago. And today, they’re both getting married. Just not to each other.”
My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto a chair with a loud thud. God… Why is this happening to me? There’s no way my father didn’t know Rustam had a lover.
“Ironic, isn’t it? Our fiancés are cheating on us on our wedding day,” he continued, his gaze burning into the top of my head.
“You’re getting married today too?” I asked gloomily.
“Was supposed to. Clearly, neither of us is tying the knot today.”
I managed a faint smile. The fact that my fiancé had a mistress didn’t stop my father. Taking control of my emotions, I stood up.
“I’m very grateful to you… for telling me this,” I said politely, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “Please… could you leave? My ceremony is in ten minutes. If someone sees you here with me, there’ll be trouble.”
My voice cracked. The marks of my father’s “discipline” still lingered on my arms and back. I shuddered to think what would happen if he caught me alone with a man.
The stranger stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“So, you don’t care?” he said, pointing at the door. “You’re just going to walk out there and tie your life to him?” He enunciated each word carefully, watching me intently.
“You’re the first person to even ask me that,” I replied bitterly, lowering my head and turning away.
Why does he even care? God… I just want him to leave.
As I stared blankly at the floor, he stood still as a mountain.
“You talk like this wasn’t your decision to get married.”
I froze.
“Are you…?” His tone shifted, and he took a step toward me. I tensed up. Too close. “Are they forcing you into this marriage?”
I clenched the fabric of my dress in my fist. He was the first to call it what it was. I stayed silent—there was no need to say anything. What could I even say? I’d already said everything to my father, my mother, even my brothers, and in the end, it changed nothing.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice a couple of tones deeper than before. I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. “Look at me,” he insisted, and I finally did.
Facing him, I forced myself to meet his gaze. He looked shocked, his eyes reflecting emotions no one had ever shown me before: anger, concern, or maybe pity?
“Marry me,” he blurted out in a single breath.
I stared at him, wide-eyed.
“What?”
“I’m offering you the chance to choose your own husband.”
I narrowed my eyes and took a step back.
“You don’t strike me as a knight in shining armor who helps for free.”
“I’m hardly a knight. This is mutual benefit,” he said with determination. “You help me get revenge, and I’ll stick it to the people forcing you into this.”
“I don’t want to be a pawn…”
“And what are you now?” he pressed, hitting a painful truth. “All you need to know is that I’m not the type to play games with people. Decide. Are you in?”
A storm raged inside me. The fear of defying my father wouldn’t leave me, even if I stood behind this man. Even if I became his wife. But I didn’t want to live in fear for the rest of my life.
“Yes…” I whispered, barely audible.
He nodded.
“Got your ID with you?”
I nodded and hurried to the small table. My parents were so used to me never going against them that they’d left it with me. Grabbing my documents and purse, I walked back to him.
“Do you promise that once I leave this room, I won’t regret it?”
He looked at me for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity as my heart pounded in my chest. Stepping closer, almost too close, he leaned down toward me.
“I promise you’ll always have a choice,” he said on a breath, looking straight into my eyes. “Whether you’ll regret it or not, no one can say. But it’ll be your decision.”
I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush. He was too close.
“My father will be here any minute,” I said, glancing at the door in a panic. “How are we going to get out…?”
“The same way I came in.”
He took my hand and strode confidently out of the room. Gripping his large palm, I followed. My heart thundered, and a ringing filled my ears. The hallway was empty, and we slipped out unnoticed. Racing down the stairs to the first floor, we entered another set of doors. But they didn’t lead to an exit.
“I thought we were leaving,” I said, looking around in confusion.
“There are several wedding halls here. Ours is that way.”
“Wait, what? We’re getting married right now?”
“Of course. Why drag this out?” he said, as if there was no other option. Meanwhile, one question stuck in my head—what did dragging things out have to do with a cat’s tail and a wedding?