Golden opportunity

"Sara's point of view,"

"You may get dressed, Miss Grace. I'll wait outside for you."

The driver abruptly applied the brakes in front of a building.

I looked at the building in confusion. I don't want to get out of the car, but his driver looks at me strangely through the rearview mirror.

Even though I still have time to escape this unwanted wedding, I don't know how I'll end up getting away from the monster that caused all this misery in my life in two days.

Hesitantly, I stepped inside the elegant building. I had never been inside such opulent buildings before. Every inch of the building is a reflection of the saloon's opulence and impeccable taste.

Why did he send me to this saloon?

He wanted to flaunt his wife in public, but it's just a contract between us.

They draped a large, flowered white gown around me and adorned my neck with a diamond necklace. They finished applying makeup and tangled my hair into a French braid.

Although I dislike having makeup applied to my face, I don't feel the need to stop the makeup artist when it doesn't happen like I want it to.

I sat there in silence, staring dejectedly in the mirror at myself. I asked myself again, looking directly into my eyes, "Do you want this?"

"Can we leave now, Miss?" I was engrossed in my thoughts, completely oblivious to my surroundings.

I didn't realize until his driver asked me to go that they had already turned me into a plastic doll that covered off my real beauty. I've always desired a simple marriage to the love of my life. I don't enjoy people-pleasing show-offs. I simply want to be myself, but he's attempting to change me in addition to making me do things against my will. Already, I hate that man.

Once we arrived at the church, a swarm of paparazzi treated me like a movie star and took my picture. I walked into the chapel with a blank expression, ignoring the sound of the camera clicking.

He stood proudly in the center of the church. His triumph over me was evident in his smile and eyes.

I feel suffocated inside. I wanted to escape this forced marriage, but my phone kept showing me the bill from my mom's hospitalization.

What's the purpose of all this?

The reality is quite different from my dream of dressing in a white gown and picturing Neil as my groom.

"Why are you looking so miserable, Miss Grace? It is our wedding; you should be smiling and blushing." He murmured into my ear as I approached him.

Terror lurks in his glacial voice.

As we drew closer, his breath flirted with my earlobe. The sensation of his closeness numbs my entire body.

"Miss Sara Grace, do you accept Aron Finge as your husband?" The priest questioned me.

Everybody in the chapel was staring at me with curiosity.

Do I want him to be a husband?

There's no way I can ever replace Neil. There will always be a void in my life that he fills.

Saying yes to the priest is not something my soul permits.

I silently bowed my head and stared at the church's gleaming floor.

"Sara Grace, do you accept Aron Finge as your husband?" The priest repeated his question.

"Authoress naughty, don't forget that media is already here."

Just as I was ready to say no, Aaron reminded me of my compulsion in a terrible whisper.

To overcome my compulsions, I must accept Aaron as my spouse, as I lack the courage to confront my fear.

I am sorry, Neil. I promise you, though, that no one can ever truly replace you in my heart. My pain is so overwhelming that I can't cry right now.

Even though Neil's dad told me he's getting engaged shortly, I still can't believe it.

"Miss Grace, do you accept...,"

"Yes, I do." The priest asked the same question once more, but I answered him before he could complete his statement.

Only I know how much strength it takes to say these two words.

"Aron Finge, do you accept Sara Grace as your wife?" Now Priest was staring at the monster right in front of me.

"Yes, I do." He grinned mischievously as he looked at me from head to toe.

"You can now exchange the rings." When I heard the priest, he grabbed my hand as if he had won a battle and slid a solitaire diamond ring into my left hand.

I felt uncomfortable with his touch. I want to immediately sanitize my hand to get rid of the experience of his touch. His touch was so harsh and disturbing that not even hand sanitizer could erase the memory of it.

"Now you may kiss the bride."

No, I won't allow him to ever touch me. I took a step back, trying to escape this ritual. I won't let him kiss me. He has no right to steal my first kiss. I saved my first kiss for Neil, so how can I allow him to kiss me?

"Now you are mine, Miss Grace." With such force that my breast struck his body, he grabbed my waist and dragged me toward him.

"No, Aron, please leave me." I begged him to let go of me.

"I have diligently sought after this opportunity; how can I squander this splendid chance, my sweetheart?" As he clenched my jaw, he stared intently at my lips.

I shuddered as I felt his hot breath on my face. The thought of kissing him made my throat dry. With tears in my eyes, I begged him, but I had the impression that he would not grant my request. Like a victim about to be shot by a hunter, I felt like I was merely prey caught in the trap.

My numb body felt as though a thunderbolt had struck it. Through our kiss, it seemed like he was searching for something in me rather than making a promise. He was just rubbing his lips against mine as if he had been thirsty for years and had finally gotten the chance to quench it.

My need, or perhaps I should say my fear of being found out for writing those erotic articles, made me bend over on my knees in front of this magnificent Aaron Finge, even though I didn't want to be treated like a conquered castle.