Chapter 1 (Hell Of A Wedding)

Aurora POV

Your wedding day, the day that’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life, a day that’s memorable and unforgettable because you are walking down the aisle to meet with the man you will love forever, the man you are going to swear your commitment with. It’s supposed to be an enjoyable day filled with people you love, your family being the happiest folks, your father staring at you in nothing but pure happiness, but sadly, mine was the opposite. 

       It’s the worst day of my life, a day I continually prayed in my heart wasn’t going to be real. I remember two weeks ago, when they broke the news to me, I was getting married to Dexter King in place of my sister. At first, it felt like I was dreaming. Surely, no way I would be getting married to him. The world doesn’t even know the Brown family has two daughters. Katie has been in the spotlight ever since, so why am I getting married to him?

     But of course, I know I can’t question their decision. I have never questioned their decision because I know how it would end. I looked at myself in the mirror. The gown was beautiful and looked like it was worth a fortune, with my makeup done to perfection covering layers of eye bags and dark circles. I looked too beautiful at how miserable I felt on the inside. This was about to be the worst day of my life, and no one seemed to care. The door opened and my father walked in. He looked at me coldly, no ounce of warmth or care for me. I was used to it.

“Today is the day, Aurora. Don’t you dare mess this up,” he said, looking at me from the mirror.

“Yes, father,” I replied, my voice void of any emotions. Inside of me, there was a turmoil. I was drowning in an endless sea of rage and self pity. 

“I hope you will get to keep your marriage. There is no home for you with us after today,” he said, and I wanted to scream at him that it was never home, but I kept my opinion to myself.

“Yes, father,” I said. He nods his head, going outside and I guess it was my cue to follow him. We got outside, and the girls were outside. They clipped my veil and handed over the bouquet to me.

“Thank you,” I said. They nod their heads, smiling, and they walk away. I hold my grown up, following my father to my doom. Of course, the King’s booked the most expensive hall. The hall is too expensive for a forced and contract marriage. It’s just a business deal, and I am forced to suffer from it. After a short walk, we got to the front of the hall and father crossed my arm with his. The closest we’ve ever stood, ever since I can remember. 

“Smile Aurora, you look miserable,” father snapped. Of course, I look miserable. I also feel miserable. The door opened slowly and when it opened, I was blinded by the flashes. How many media were invited? Mr. King really wants the world to know his son is off the market. Father walked in and I followed him, walking in his pace as the choir sang the famous wedding song in a very beautiful harmony. Their voices sounded like how angels would sound when they sing. I was overwhelmed. This was too extravagant for a contract wedding.

    I looked around the hall, and it was full and filled with people I don’t know and they were all smiling as we passed, the wedding song playing. It’s funny how people are beaming at me and admiring the wedding gown, but I don’t know half of them. I have tried so hard not to think about this day; I tried to ignore it, but I could no longer ignore my reality as today was the day, the day I would get married to Dexter King. I looked forward, and he sat in his wheelchair, dressed in a black tux. I couldn’t see his face, his back was turned against me. 

     We got to the front of the altar and father left me, no encouraging words or smiles. I climbed up the small stairs and the priest gave me an encouraging smile. I stood frozen, not wanting to look at my soon to be husband. I doubt there will be anything good on his face. The ceremony passed by in a blur; the priest ignoring the tension in front of him.

     After what seemed like hours, I said my vows, embarrassed to the core as my husband didn’t utter one word or wear me my ring. I did it myself with him, refusing to wear his ring. The guest murmured and tears left my eyes. I was trying so hard to hold it, but it was impossible as the murmurs increased.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest said, not bothering to complete his statement. He was looking at me in pity. My now husband breathed a sigh of relief that the ceremony was over.

“Help me out of here,” he snapped at the man beside him. I almost flinched at how angry his voice sounded.

“Yes, Mr. King,” the man said shakily, wheeling him out. The murmurs increased, and the priest looked at me in more pity. I started feeling dizzy, the tears that I have been suppressing weighing on my fragile heart. I couldn’t take the murmurs and harsh words anymore. Slowly I fell, losing consciousness. The wedding probably wasn’t the saddest thing that happened that unfortunate day. It was the fact no one reached out to me when I fell. I was surrounded by strangers. That was the saddest thing.