I'm Done, Mr. Substitute

Aurora’s POV

“Aurora, they said the wedding is being delayed?!” Shouting in panic, my best friend Tanya bursts into my dressing room, her eyes red with tears, “They are taking apart the altar right now! What do we do?!”

My stomach drops flat. I should have known, but I still stupidly hoped for the impossible. I look at my phone, and my chat with Hector remains the same since hours ago--

[Company emergency. Delay the wedding.]

I called him many times since I got his message, but Hector never picked up. He just went ahead and told the hotel to cancel the wedding.

How easy Hector made it sound.

Just, delay the wedding.

But a wedding between a Dunn and a Morgan can’t just be delayed, can it? Being a bond between the two most powerful families in the city, the whole city is staring at our wedding. The media buses surrounded the hotel like sharks for hours now, ready to mark this day as a remarkable symbol for love, or a stain of shame.

Hector chose the latter for me, because he knew he would never lose me, no matter what.

He knew that when he ignored me, I would persuade myself that he still cared about me. He knew, even though feeling wronged, I would still put on an understanding smile and complete his lie in front of the guest. He knew that no matter how he treated me, I would always swallow the bitterness, and wait for him to simply wave at me, before I crawl back to him like a happy dog.

Because that’s how it has always been between us.

Yes, I’m the “princess” of the Morgan, but I wasn’t always her.

I was switched at birth, and the Morgans only took me back when I was 13.

Raised in a poor, single parent family, I was overwhelmed and filled with inferiority when I was thrown into this elite world. My parents were strangers to me, my school loathed my poor grade, and the kids in this circle were mean, just like everywhere else, except with more ability to bully and fewer consequences to face.

Life was a living hell for me ever since I came here, and Hector barged in like the hero he was.

Simple as that, he became an addiction that I couldn’t quit. I fell in love with him helplessly. I pursued him, I grabbed onto the chance at a marriage with him, and I was the one who wouldn’t let go, no matter how he treated me.

I have been so desperate in this love marathon for years, but today I found out that even I, someone who has no self, have a limit.

I’m too tired. Too tired to twist myself into his taste, and too tired to wait for him to see me. I wanted to marry my hero, but I forgot, the damsels in distress who get happily saved, is all but a burden to the hero.

[I think this is the best ending for us.]

This time, Hector’s reply comes in quickly: [Don’t be such capricious. The wedding will take place tomorrow.]

I almost laugh out loud. Of course it won’t. It can’t.

There are dozens of celebrities and hundreds of families and friends, waiting for us in the wedding hall right now. The guests might be understanding about the delay, but they won’t be able to come again, and even if they could stay a few days longer, the plaza is fully booked for the next two years.

Delay was just a fancier way to say cancel.

No, the more realistic plan would be, Mr. Morgan to take me to get registered with Hector tomorrow at the city hall, completing the profitable bond between the two families, and then he would buy off the media so the news about the absent groom stays off the papers, so people would soon forget that this farce ever happened to his last name.

But that’s the problem!

This realization hits me hard. I jump up, horrified, almost tripping over the heavy wedding dress in doing so--

Even without Hector saying the vows with me, I’m still trapped in this marriage!

The Morgans and the Dunns WILL be bonded by marriage, whether with me being a proud Mr. Dunn or a laughable one. That’s why Hector didn’t care to respond to me, because nothing I do matters now!

He knew no matter if I get angry or sad, or simply be the tamed pet that I have always been, there would still only be one outcome today: the Dunn and the Morgan, bonded.

I can’t let him have his way. Not this time.

I don’t want to bind him in a marriage, if it’s going to be a loveless one.

Hector might not love me, but he would never agree to a divorce. He honors his family name too much, and he has responsibilities as the future CEO to maintain a good public image. I should never have mixed gratitude with love, or I wouldn’t have been stuck in this heavy dress right now, one that I chose only because Ethen liked it.

I trapped myself in the name of love, and Hector in the process.

There is still time. I need to do something, anything!

“Are my parents still there?!” I shake Tanya. She hesitates, as if unable to break the hard truth for me. I dash out before she could say anything. I don’t have time to explain.

I need to catch my last chance at freedom.

I need a deal with the devil.

Damon Dunn, Hector’s brother, also the prodigal son of the family. He is a bully, a useless, and a total jerk, but at the same time, he is a Dunn. A dishonored one that a divorce barely qualifies as a stain on his long rap sheet.

“Perfect husband” for me today.

I charge into the wedding hall with the darn heavy dress grabbed in my hand. It’s too heavy. I didn’t like it, but Hector wanted the middle age princess style. Panting heavily, I eye the empty seats before the guests, several of them stare at me, some women cover they mouths with their hands, and still make it clear enough for me to read that they are laughing at me.

The sting of the mocking laughter can’t compare with the huge disappointment in my chest. My parents left, so did Hector’s. Damon must have left with them. I bite my lips to prevent the tears falling. The world twirls around me, and I slip on the wedding dress and collapse on the floor, having no desire to even move.

There is no way out now. Let the media has their laugh, why not.

And that’s when I see him.

Damon Dunn. Leaning on the buffet table with a plate held in his hand, apparently has been watching me, the running bride, just like everyone else.

His long legs cross each other with the tip of his shining shoe pointed on the ground. He blinks in confusion first, then he tilts his head to the side tauntingly, before he lets out a gloating smirk, walks close, bends with one knee on the ground, and puts the plate in his hand in front of me: “Amuse bouche?”

I must be desperate, because my lack-of-oxygen brain signalled extreme happiness instead of annoyance at his presence, even at his lousy taunt.

In haste, I grab his wrist and blurt--

“I do!”