The Unwanted Marriage: Chapter 8

I stare at myself in the large mirrors inside Raven Windsor’s bridal boutique, my heart hollow. There’s no denying that the wedding dress my stylist chose for me is beautiful, but it isn’t me. The intricate beading and heavy lace look priceless, and it’s exactly the kind of thing a Windsor bride would wear.

I should be beyond grateful to be standing here in this dress, but each time I’ve walked into this boutique, I haven’t been able to look away from the far simpler long-sleeved silky wedding gown displayed in the corner. Its sleeves and beautiful deep neckline are made with the same signature Raven Windsor lace and beading, but everything else about it is just luxury silk falling in the most beautiful folds I’ve ever seen. I’d give the world to just try it on. If I’d ever been allowed to come here by myself, I would’ve asked to, even if it’s just so I could pretend I’m a normal bride for a few moments.

Had it been Eric I was marrying, that’s what I would’ve chosen to wear. When I close my eyes and let reality fade away, I can imagine the way he’d look standing at the end of the aisle, his eyes filled with love and surprise as I walk up to him in the dress of my dreams.

My heart constricts painfully as my fantasies melt together with my memories, until that look in his eyes is identical to the one he wore when I ended things — disbelief followed by heartbreak, until it finally morphed into helplessness. He looked at me as though he was hoping it was all an elaborate joke, and I wish it had been. If I could take it all back, I would.

“Raven really wanted to be here today,” Brianna, the store attendant, says as she walks up to me, a regretful look in her eyes. “She wanted to help you herself and be here for every one of your fittings, but her schedule is so packed that we’re having a hard time making it work.”

She shoots Abigail a similar apologetic look, and my stepmother steps in to speak to her, reassuring her that it’s fine before I have a chance to form my own reply.

Truthfully, I’m glad Raven isn’t here. She’s Dion’s eldest brother’s wife, and she intimidates me endlessly. When she looks at me, it’s almost like she sees my insecurities and fears. I’m always scared I’ll do or say the wrong thing in her presence. It’s one of the reasons I’m oddly grateful my father has kept me away from the Windsors for so long.

Every week, without fail, I’m invited to dinner at Dion’s grandmother’s house, but my father managed to fill my evenings with piano, dance, etiquette or elocution classes. I’ve always had an excuse ready to reject their invites, but I’ll have to face them soon. Being around the Windsors will make them realize how unsuited I am to be Dion’s wife, and I’m not sure how to prevent that.

Raven is a famous model and designer, while Valentina, Luca’s wife, is the COO of Windsor Finance. They’re both so powerful in their own right, and I could never measure up. I’m scared standing next to them will make the difference all the more obvious, and I’m not sure how Dion might respond to that kind of embarrassment. Powerful men rarely handle any level of humiliation well.

“It truly is a beautiful dress,” Abigail murmurs. “You’re beyond lucky that the Windsors are buying this for you, you know? There’s a waitlist of two years for a Raven Windsor wedding gown.”

Lucky. I suppose in some ways I am, yet it doesn’t feel that way. The wedding planning has made my family forget I had no choice in this union. Maybe it’s just easier for them to pretend this is all real, that I’m just a girl eager for her wedding day. It’s not uncommon for me to daydream about a different future, so maybe they’re doing the same. Maybe this is just how they’re coping.

Chloe gasps and reaches for me, her hand wrapping around my wrist. “Have you seen this?” she asks, holding up her phone. I take it from her with a frown, my stomach dropping at the sight of the photo The Herald published.

Dion was photographed smiling up at his secretary, Maria, on a beach in Spain. They look happy and relaxed, and based on their swimwear, I assume they were very much not working. They weren’t caught in a compromising position, but it was enough for the media to spin tales about how he’ll follow in his brother’s footsteps by marrying his secretary, and how they can all hear wedding bells.

“Didn’t he tell you he was going to London for work? He’s neither in London, nor is he working,” Chloe says, her eyes blazing with excitement, as though she’s unraveled some kind of wild plot. “I thought it was so weird that he’d tell you he was leaving in person when he’s clearly never cared about you before, but it looks like it was just to throw you off his scent or something. He probably didn’t want you to suspect the truth.”

My hand trembles as I hand back her phone. It’s only a matter of time before my father sees these articles, and he’ll definitely blame me for Dion’s behavior. It had never actually occurred to me that his fears might not be unfounded. I never considered that Dion might have someone he loves too, that I might be standing in the way of his happiness.

My heart clenches painfully as a new kind of helplessness washes over me. He told me he was as much mine as I am his, and though I hadn’t been consciously aware of it, a small part of me foolishly believed him. He’d convinced me that at least to some degree, I’d been wrong about him. It should bring me relief to find out that his words were as empty as I thought them to be, but somehow, it just hurts.

For a single moment, he’d given me hope — hope that our future wouldn’t be filled with betrayal and me having to turn a blind eye. We might never have found love together, but I’d hoped that at the very least, there’d be honesty between us. It hurts to know I can’t even expect that much from him.

Abigail wordlessly raises her arm to adjust something on my dress, and her sleeve moves, revealing a blue bruise on her wrist. My heart drops at the sight of it, and my eyes meet her fear-filled ones.

I thought he’d stopped hurting her now the wedding date has been set. He seemed calmer lately, but was that only because the anger he usually reserves for me transferred to Abigail?

I’ve done my best to ensure he’s had nothing to complain about. I’ve kept quiet and played the extra concerts he planned in suddenly, despite the additional strain it’s put on my fingers and wrists. I’ve been extra careful with my replies each time the Windsors asked for my opinion on anything, because he told me he didn’t want me making any choices at all, and I’ve been reporting every single interaction with Grandma Anne back to him, like he ordered me to.

If that wasn’t enough, then what will he do to us when he sees the articles about Dion and Maria? “Are you sure money will change everything?” I ask, my voice soft.

Abigail’s head snaps up, and she looks into my eyes, seemingly caught off-guard. “Yes,” she says, but she no longer sounds as sure as she used to. “Of course it will.”

I hadn’t considered what might happen once I’m no longer around to bear the brunt of my father’s anger. Will it shift to Chloe? With Linda away at college, it’ll be just Abigail and Chloe in the house. I’m getting married to protect the girls, but what if my absence ends up harming them more? So far, he’s spared Linda and Chloe, but will that last?

Abigail continues to touch my dress aimlessly. “Just do this for me, please. I know it’ll change everything. You don’t remember how he used to be, but I do.” She takes a step back and raises her head to look at me. “Once our debts are paid off, I’ll put him in rehab. He’ll resist, I’m sure, but I know he loves me. The man he is now… that’s not really him. It’s the liquor that’s making him act that way. Deep down, he’s still a good man. He is. Besides, your marriage will pay for Linda and Chloe’s schooling, and it’ll open so many opportunities for all three of you. Just trust me, Faye. Everything will get better once you’re married.”

I nod, willing myself to believe her and failing. I’m well-acquainted with fear, yet I’ve never been more scared of the future than I am right now.