THE WITCH AT MY WEDDING.

ANASTASIA. 

The getting married part didn't make me want to throw up my guts. 

I wanted to throw up my guts when I saw Payton, the witch, at my wedding. Yes, I knew she would be there; after all, she's close to Damien’s age and works with him. Gag. Eww. 

So yeah, seeing her there might've brought out the anger. I usually try to tone it down and bury it inside. The anger I feel is toxic, super toxic, and I don't want to be that person in the presence of Damien on my wedding day. 

Payton didn't do anything either; her mere existence just makes me want to turn into a beast. 

Anyway, it's over. We are finally married, though nobody will know about it except the four of us: myself, Damien, Payton, and Cierra. He made it clear that no one else would know about it, and we removed our rings immediately after we were done at the city hall. He would probably throw them out once we were far away from here. 

I still feel a ick for Payton, so the moment I get home, I open my journal and add her name to the side of negative things that I created. Yes, I have a list of negative and positive things in my life, and Payton’s name just made it into the negative part. 

Why was Payton always with Damien? Now my husband. Was she in love with him? Do they sleep together? A lot of thoughts were running through my head.

I steal a peek at them, and they were both heading down the stairs and talking in hushed whispers. They look so perfect for each other that you'll think they were the ones who just got married. Fuck, I feel like throwing up now. They were so comfortable around each other and so in tune that it disgusted me, and I think I'm really going to throw up. 

I grip the bracelet Damien got me for my birthday and squeeze because that was the only thing I could hold on to and not spiral. 

“Are you okay?” 

I slowly break contact with both of them to look at Liam, Damien’s nephew, whom I might be following on all social media just to glimpse his uncle. Seeing his face was a breath of fresh air, and the weird feeling in my stomach stopped for a bit. 

Since Liam’s parents died when they were young, his grandparents, who are Damien’s parents, adopted him, and even they his parents adopted him, Damien practically raised Liam. They both have such a heartwarming relationship where Liam tries to annoy his uncle. 

“Yeah, I'm fine,” I tell Liam. 

He's watching me with light green eyes that are nothing like his Uncle’s darker ones. His hair is too blonde, too light. It's giving the golden boy. And he is a golden boy for sure. 

But he's beautiful, super hot, like some girls call him, but I don't feel tingly in his presence or feel like I have to control my facial expressions. I don't feel butterflies swimming in my belly or feel like I'm overstimulated and might just orgasm at the sight of him. 

“Are you sure, Ana?”

“Yeah.” 

He shifts his gaze to Damien, who is oblivious to both of us due to his conversation with Payton; they are still talking in hushed whispers, which annoyed me. 

“If he's mistreating you, tell me.” 

“And what are you going to do about it?” I asked, trying not to sound too amused.

“I’ll stop him, of course.” 

“But he's your family. He's practically your dad.” 

“That doesn't mean I'll take his side when he's wrong.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“So you're on my side? Like my ally?” 

“I mean, if you need me, I'll be here. So yes, you can call me an ally.” 

Warmth floods through me, and I let a smile break on my lips as I touch his arm and rub slightly. 

“Thanks, Liam. That means a lot to me.” 

He's about to reply when a shadow falls over us, well, me to be precise, because Liam is tall enough to escape it. 

Me, though? I'm caught underneath it, with no escape, and trapped under Damien’s sharp scrutiny. His gaze is so sharp that I unconsciously squirm. 

“Didn't you say you were going back home?” 

Damien asked in a voice that makes people feel uncomfortable. 

“What's the rush, though?” Liam asks with a sharp glint in his eyes, like he was taunting his uncle. “Ana and I were going to have coffee and catch up.” 

Wait what? We were? 

Not that I mind. I'd appreciate anything that took me out of this environment where I could see how comfortable Payton is with my husband. 

“Anastasia needs to rest, and you have work to do.” Was it just me, or was his voice sharper, stronger, harsher, almost like a whip?

“In that case, I'll take a rain check.” Liam pats my hand, which is still on his arm, because Damien distracted me. 

“That coffee date or whatever won't be happening, so don't count on it,” Damien said, and I was about to tell him to shove his opinion far up his asshole, but the witch interrupted me. 

“Give me a ride, Liam,” Payton says from the bottom of the stairs. I almost forgot she was there. Almost. 

Damien grabs me by the elbow and pulls me back from his nephew. The act was so effortless that I felt like I was floating in the air as we left the scene without another word. 

Payton gives me a look that I didn't understand. Pity? An apology? But why would she pity me or apologize to me? She is a witch.

Oh Dad.

“Where are we going?” I asked Damien once I came out of my daze.

“I'll drive you home.” 

“Why?”

“Because you're a few minutes away from collapsing.”

So he noticed my exhaustion? Am I that obvious to everyone? 

Yikes. 

“I can take a cab. Don't worry about me. You said you had a meeting at the firm?” 

“Since you got to the city hall late, I rescheduled my morning meetings, so I'm free until the afternoon,” he says as he unlocks his car and steps to the driver's side.

“Sorry for messing up your morning meetings, husband.”