3: I Do Not

CIARA

“Are you alright, miss?” the makeup artist asked, dabbing a brush along my cheekbone. “You look pale… Maybe you didn’t get enough sleep because you’re excited?”

“That’s right,” I replied, nodding. It sounded easy, casual, but the truth was, I hadn’t slept because of excitement, but because the memory of Austin and Yuri’s betrayal gnawed at me until dawn.

I’d honestly expected to break down as soon as I got back to my room last night. However, I’d just curled up around my pillow, clutching it tight, wishing I could squeeze the thoughts and ache out of my chest.

Questions kept spinning through my head, repeating in circles. Was I not enough? Why did they do it? How could they even stomach it? But no matter how long I mulled over those questions, I couldn’t come up with any answers.

Neither my father nor I had ever deserved this. We loved our partners with everything we had, nothing but honesty and pure hearts. So why? Why would Austin and Yuri do something so cruel, something so ugly?

Even when I tried to push those thoughts away, Rowan’s offer kept slipping in between, adding to the mess inside my mind.

It wasn’t until someone gently touched my arm that I realized my makeup and hair were already finished.

“Let’s get you into your gown, miss,” the assistant said, and I only nodded, letting her guide me into the bridal dress. 

The fabric slid over my skin, strange and heavy. Then all at once, two others were pinning jewelry in place, fastening the necklace, slipping on the earrings, while I just stood there, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

It was the image I’d exactly pictured since Austin proposed to me six months ago: my strawberry blonde hair was swept up in a clean bun with wavy strands framing my face. Despite the lack of sleep, my blue eyes became brighter because the makeup was soft and perfect, accentuating everything I liked about myself.

The wedding dress, the one I’d agonized over for months, fit exactly as it should. It was an off-the-shoulder with lace sleeves; it was elegant but simple.

I looked beautiful. I looked perfect. But the feeling was all wrong. Instead of happiness, excitement, and that giddy flutter I’d expected—I felt weighted and awful.

The more I tried to breathe, the heavier it became.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. My gaze then snapped left, toward the door, heart thumping because I already knew who it would be. Still, when the assistant offered, I let her answer it, watching her cross the room.

“Oh my! You look beautiful!” Yuri’s voice swept in a beat later, warm and bright, as if she wasn’t fucking the groom last night.

The makeup artist and hairstylist exchanged quick glances, then gathered their things and slipped out, leaving just me and my stepmother in the room.

The sight of her twisted something sharp inside me, especially because she had the nerve to come dressed in white. I wanted to reach for her, to rip the mask off her angelic face and smash her head to the mirror. But I held myself still, fingers curled tight in my side. 

“Thank you,” I managed, forcing a smile I didn’t feel, hiding the bitterness crawling up my throat.

It was unbearable, the way she could stand there with that innocent expression, as if she hadn’t spent last night with my fiancé. Honestly, if I hadn’t gone to Austin’s room, I might still be fooled, still falling for her carefully rehearsed kindness.

“Are you nervous?” Yuri stepped closer as she touched my hand. It was light as always, but now, it made my skin crawl. Still, I made myself stay, even though every cell in my body screamed to pull away.

“Yeah, a bit,” I said, my voice coming out a little shaky as I tried to hold myself together.

“It will be all right. I was nervous when I married your father, too. But as soon as I saw him waiting for me at the altar, all I could feel was the excitement of spending my life with him.” She smiled at me, her eyes shining with a kind of warmth that almost seemed real, as if she really meant what she had said.

For a second, I almost believed her. There was a tiny, dangerous moment when I let myself believe it, and that made my blood boil. The shamelessness, the way she could spin her lies so easily, was infuriating. But what made it worse was that I didn’t do anything about it—not yet.

This wasn’t the time to confront her. Not until I ended things with Austin, which I would do in just a few minutes.

“I’m sure you’ll feel that, too. You and Austin are perfect for each other, after all,” she added softly, and I just nodded, not wanting to say more since I barely trusted myself to keep my expression neutral.

Thankfully, the organizer called for me, saying the ceremony was about to start, and Yuri finally left my room to head to the hotel’s famous garden, where my wedding would take place.

As soon as I was alone, I turned to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, but all I could do was try to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

In a strange way, finding out about Austin’s betrayal before the wedding made me lucky, even if it hurt. I had dodged a bullet, a huge one at that.

By the time I reached the entrance and spotted my father waiting, a tightness pinched in my chest, and my eyes stung. I felt bad for him; he loved Yuri so genuinely, and yet she betrayed him.

Just picturing his reaction when he learned about her affair with Austin made my whole body tense up.

“You look gorgeous, my princess,” Dad said, handing me the flower, which I accepted with my pressed lips together, refusing to let the tears fall. “Your mother would surely cry in heaven, knowing you’re getting married.”

“I’m sure she would.” I tried to smile, slipping my arm through my father’s as we waited for the door to open. When it did, my chest felt tight as I forced in a deep breath, willing back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

My knees were trembling as I stepped forward, and there, down the aisle, was Austin. His dirty blonde hair was neatly swept back, enhancing his gray eyes. His white suit was perfectly tailored to his frame. He looked every bit the handsome groom, but the sight of him didn’t spark anything in me anymore—not the way it once did.

If anything, seeing him cry as he watched me walk towards him only made the knot in my stomach worse. I couldn’t help but bite the inside of my cheek, avert my gaze, and then, accidentally, locked eyes with Rowan.

He was standing near the front with the rest of Austin’s family. He was wearing a black suit and glasses with his hair pulled into his usual man bun. When he smiled at me so casually, I looked away fast, forcing my attention back to Austin as I finally reached his side.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, and I could hear the quiver in his voice as he brushed a trembling hand over his own tears. Then he reached for my hand, while my father gave me away.

This scene surely looked touching, but all I could think about was how these same hands, the hands holding me so gently now, had been wrapped around another woman just last night.

The image twisted in my stomach, leaving behind a bitter, crawling disgust I couldn’t shake.

“Make her happy, Austin. You know she’s my only princess, so treat her well, all right?” my dad said, clearly emotional as he patted Austin on the shoulder.

“Yes, sir. Don’t worry, I’ll do everything to make Ciara happy.” Austin’s words came out so steady, so convincing, I almost laughed. I barely managed to keep it in, letting the emotion of the moment cover up what I was really feeling.

If there were ever an award for acting, Austin would’ve won it. No question. He deserved a fucking Oscar.

“Shall we?” His words were as soft as always, and I just nodded, not trusting my voice before I felt him gently guide my hand to rest around his arm. My fingers automatically clung to the fabric of his sleeve, and we moved forward together, stopping in front of the officiant.

The ceremony then began. I tried my best to focus on the words, but last night’s memories kept looping in my mind. Every single feeling, every breathless moment, all the betrayal and confusion, echoing inside me, louder than anything the officiant was saying.

“Do you, Ciara, take Austin to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The words finally came, and it startled me enough to actually break free from my fogged state. “Will you honor and cherish them, continue to deepen your understanding of them, and treat them with love and compassion in joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life might throw your way?”

When the question hung in the air, I felt something snap, like a window opening in a room I’d been trapped in for hours. Without hesitation, I answered with all the strength and passion I could muster.

“No,” I said, my voice steady, maybe even too loud, before I met the officiant’s startled look, then turned toward Austin’s pale, stunned face beside me. “I do not.”