Dear Ex-husband, You Chose War

Scarlett’s POV

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I was getting married to Collins Radford, the man I had loved in secret since I was a child.

Everyone expected me to be excited, to smile, to be the perfect bride. I was none of those things.

I felt trapped.

I was about to agree to a life with a man who did not want me, who had made it clear I was the last person he wanted beside him. Yet here I was, wearing a wedding dress that felt heavier than stone, staring at a woman in the mirror I barely recognized.

It was not the makeup and it was not the dress. It was the emptiness in my eyes, the sorrow anyone could have seen if they had cared to look. 

But no one did. Everyone was busy celebrating while I counted the seconds until it would be official, until my freedom would belong to someone else.

A brush swept across my cheek. 

“Ma’am, could you tilt your face a little?” the makeup artist asked. Her voice was gentle but polite, as if she was training me to perform.

I obeyed without speaking. Today was more than a wedding. It was a formality.

No, it felt like a trap. And I had no choice but to walk right into it.

~~

I sat before the large mirror, watching a stranger take shape. The woman in the reflection had flawless skin, pink lips, and long golden hair pinned into a perfect bun that would soon be hidden under a veil. She had my features, but I no longer recognized her.

Around me, the room buzzed with quiet activity.

The two makeup artists whispered as they packed away their brushes and palettes. Another woman knelt beside me, smoothing the hem of my gown so it fell perfectly over my knees. The air was thick with the scent of roses and powder.

The room itself was elegant, cream walls, soft golden curtains filtering gentle light, everything warm and expensive. A framed photograph of Sienna and me hung above the mirror.

It was the same room I had woken up in for most of my life, yet it suddenly felt foreign, it felt cold, like it belonged to someone else.

“You should smile,” said the middle-aged woman fixing my veil. “It’s your wedding day.”

I wanted to smile, but there was nothing to smile about.

My chest felt heavy with truth. I was marrying a man whose heart already belonged to my twin sister.

The door opened softly, pulling me from my thoughts. A familiar scent of jasmine drifted in. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Scarlett.”

My grandmother, Margarita Goldwyn, entered the room with her usual quiet authority. She wore a gray silk dress and pearls that glowed faintly against her silver hair. Every movement was deliberate, her posture regal. She came to stand behind me, her reflection joining mine in the mirror.

The makeup artists stepped aside quickly, creating space as if her presence demanded it.

Her hand came to rest on my shoulder, firm, but not tender.

“You look lovely,” she said, though her tone was measured, not affectionate. “Today is an important day. Remember, this marriage isn’t about you. It’s about the alliance between the Radfords and the Goldwyns. It’s for the family.”

I nodded slowly, my throat tight.

She studied me through the mirror for a long moment. I wondered if she could see the grief in my eyes.

“You know why I chose you, don’t you?” she asked softly.

I nodded again. I had heard that line a thousand times before.

“You were chosen because you are dependable,” she continued. “You hold your head high, you think before you speak. The Radfords need someone like you, the opposite of your reckless twin sister, Sienna.”

Her reflection met mine, waiting for agreement.

I swallowed hard and forced a small smile. “I understand, Grandmother,” I said quietly. “It’s for the family.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile of approval. “Good girl.” She adjusted my veil, though it didn’t need it, and whispered, “You look like the perfect bride.”

I stared at my reflection, into the hollow eyes of the stranger in white, and thought silently, ‘I’m not sure about that.’

Margarita gave my shoulder another tap. “It’s almost time,” she said softly.

My heart began to beat faster, heavy and uneven. I could feel it in my throat, in my palms, in the thin space between one breath and the next. Each second drew me closer to the hour I dreaded, the moment I would walk down the aisle toward a man who didn’t love me.

The women around me began clearing their tools, their quiet chatter fading into the background. The air grew thinner and colder.

I looked at the woman in the mirror one last time, the perfect bride everyone wanted me to be, and wished I could see myself instead.

---

The church smelled of roses and candle wax, the air thick with perfume and whispers. Dignitaries filled the pews, their eyes bright with curiosity and admiration. They were here to witness the perfect alliance, the Goldwyn and Radford families bound by vows and legacy.

My fingers tightened around the bouquet as I walked down the long aisle, the hem of my gown brushing against the marble floor.

Collins stood at the altar, tall and composed, his dark suit flawless. His eyes met mine for barely a second before drifting away. There was no warmth in them, only duty.

The guests smiled, some whispered behind their fans, enchanted by what they thought was a perfect love story. I kept my chin high, my steps steady. My heart ached, but my face remained calm.

When I reached him, Collins took my hand. His grip was light, almost hesitant. Even that small touch felt cold.

The priest’s voice filled the hall, calm and even. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Scarlett Goldwyn and Collins Radford…”

I barely heard the rest. My thoughts were a blur, buried beneath the truth that Collins’s heart had always belonged to Sienna.

Then came the words I dreaded.

“If anyone here objects to this union,” the priest said, his gaze sweeping across the congregation, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then a voice, sharp, trembling, and all too familiar shattered the silence.

“I object.”

Gasps filled the air. My chest tightened instantly. I didn’t need to turn. I knew who it was.

Sienna.

She stood at the end of the aisle, her brown hair tousled, tears streaking her face. “He doesn’t love her,” she cried, her voice shaking. “He loves me. Tell them, Collins, tell them the truth!”

Every sound in the room faded. I could only hear my heartbeat.

Collins froze beside me. He didn’t deny it. His jaw tightened, his eyes flickering toward her for one small, devastating second. That was all it took.

The humiliation hit me like fire. I felt every gaze on me, some pitying, some curious. My hands went numb, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Sienna stepped forward, still crying. “You said you loved me, Collins. Say it now, prove it. You can’t marry her.”

My grandmother’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “That’s enough, Sienna.”

Margarita was already moving down the aisle, her expression fierce. She gripped Sienna’s arm with surprising strength. “You will not disgrace this family any further,” she hissed. Then, turning to the priest, she said coldly, “Continue the ceremony.”

The murmurs died down. Sienna resisted, but even her defiance crumbled beneath my grandmother’s glare.

The priest cleared his throat, his voice trembling slightly as he continued.

When he asked Collins if he would take me as his wife, Collins’s answer was flat. “I do.”

It didn’t sound like love. It sounded like duty.

When my turn came, I lifted my chin and said softly, “I do.” My voice didn’t shake, though everything inside me did.

The applause that followed felt empty and forced.

As we walked back down the aisle, Collins leaned toward me, his voice low and cold. “You’re only here because your grandmother forced me,” he whispered. “Don’t mistake this for anything else.”

His words pierced clean through me. I turned to him with the same perfect smile I’d worn all day. “Of course,” I murmured. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Cameras flashed and guests clapped.

From the outside, we looked like the perfect couple, elegant, composed, and untouchable.

But inside, I made a silent vow.

One day, Collins Radford would regret choosing Sienna over me.