Fake Marriage (Indonesia)

Natasha's POV.

I was halfway through my second cup of coffee, still in my robe, basking in the glow of finally landing a job that morning – an internship at one of the biggest hospitals in the country after months of sending out applications.

It was the first time, that everything felt so serene and hopeful. My phone rang, cutting through the moment. I checked the caller ID to see it was my mother so I picked up the phone.

My mother's voice came through the line, tight and breathless. “Your sister. Where is she?" she asked, her voice laced with panic.

I sat up straighter, a knot already forming in my stomach. "Mom... What kind of question is that? How would I know? Isn't she at home, getting ready for her wedding?"

"No. She's gone, Natasha. Your sister is gone."

I stared ahead, not fully processing what I was hearing. Gone? What did she mean gone?

I blinked, confused “Gone where?" I asked, already getting to my feet.

"She is nowhere to be found. Her dress is on the floor, the car's still outside. We don't know where she went."

My heart dropped. It felt hard to breathe. "I'm coming," I said and hung up, not even waiting for a response.

The drive felt endless, even though the roads were clear. My heart raced the entire time. Of all the days to disappear – why today? The day everything was supposed to be certain? And it wasn't just any wedding – it had been planned down to the tiniest detail for months.

Funded, organized, and coordinated. It was less of a love story and more of a transaction, sure, but Carol had never protested.

I pulled up in front of the house, my pulse pounding as I stepped out of the car. The front door was already open. My mother stood at the threshold, pale and frantic, her eyes red like she hadn't blinked in hours.

I stepped inside slowly, scanning the living room like I half-expected Carol to pop out from behind a curtain and yell surprise, and say it was all a bad joke. But no. There it was. Her wedding dress, lying on the couch, half-zipped and discarded. Like she had changed her mind halfway through putting it on.

My father stood in the center of the room, holding his phone but not doing anything with it. His shoulders were hunched. He gave me a small nod when our eyes met, but he looked like he hadn't slept at all.

"What are we going to do? We can't disappoint the groom. We can't let this kind of misfortune fall on us," my mother cried, pacing back and forth so fast I thought she might wear a hole into the floor.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "Mom, maybe Carol’s just overwhelmed. She’ll come back. She wouldn’t just vanish like this."

Her hands clenched into fists. "Natasha, you don’t understand. This marriage isn’t just about love or a party. It’s about the future of all the sacrifices your father and I have made. If the wedding falls apart now, it would ruin us."

A cold knot tightened in my stomach. The weight of their words hit me harder than I expected.

My father, who had been silent until then, finally spoke in a low, tired voice. "Natasha, you have to take her place."

My heart stopped. "What?" I barely breathed the word.

"You want me to marry Carol's groom?"

"Yes, Natasha. The groom wouldn't mind, he just needs a bride.”

“It would be just a simple marriage registry. There would be no guests to notice the switch,” my mother jumped in like she had been waiting for my father to bring it up.

I shook my head in disbelief. "This is your solution?”

“I have a boyfriend. We’ve made plans—you both know that. And this morning, I finally got a job offer. Do you really expect me to throw all of that away just to take Carol’s place?”

My mother's voice dropped, but the desperation was still there. "Natasha. This isn't a small matter. We can't afford to mess this up. Everything is riding on this marriage. Everything. Our family's survival depends on it."

It hit me then. They weren't kidding. This wasn't some absurd hypothetical or a moment of temporary madness. They were serious.

"What about me?" I asked, my voice rising. "What about what this will do to me?"

There was silence. Neither of them answered. And maybe that silence hurt more than anything they could've said.

I looked at the dress again. Carol had picked it out so carefully. I remembered her excitement that day in the boutique. Or... maybe it hadn't been any excitement, maybe she had just been playing along and I hadn't noticed.

I felt something twist in my chest. It was a numbness I couldn't shake.

"I can't," I whispered. And without waiting for them to say anything else, I turned around and walked out of the house.

The tears didn’t come right away. I didn’t even feel them start. One moment, I was walking to my car, trying to keep myself together, and the next... they were falling—hot and steady, stinging my eyes until I could barely see.

My hands shook as I turned the key in the ignition. I didn’t even know where I was headed at first—I just knew I had to find Josh. I needed him. I needed something to make this morning feel less like a nightmare.

We were supposed to graduate together today. I had skipped the ceremony for Carol’s wedding, thinking I would make it up to him later. But now, everything was upside down.

He was the one person who always made things feel okay. Through the exams, the stress, and the breakdowns... he had been my anchor.

No. I couldn’t just throw us away. I couldn’t turn my back on him the way my sister had turned her back on everything. He deserved better than that.

*

The university lawn was packed when I arrived. Graduates in gowns and caps hugged, laughed, and posed for photos. Families were everywhere. It was loud and joyful—the kind of joy I should have been part of.

I pushed through the crowd, scanning every face for Josh. When I found him, my breath caught.

He stood in the middle of it all, smiling not at me, but at Amara, the richest girl on campus. The one who always found her way into our space. Always a little too close, too perfect, and there.

She wore a sparkly white dress more suited for a red carpet than a graduation. A crowd had gathered around them, clapping and cheering like it was some kind of show.

Then, right before my eyes, Josh dropped to one knee and brought out a little velvet box.

I froze, every part of me locked in place. It was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs—like someone had slammed a fist right into my chest. Could he really be proposing? No, it had to be a cruel joke. It just had to be.

But then there was the ring, the crowd, and her radiant smile.

It was all painfully, heartbreakingly real.

And in that moment, everything I thought I could hold onto shattered and slipped through my fingers.