Chapter 17–Veils And Lights

Natasha’s POV

Exactly four days ago, Tristan set the date for our wedding. Since then, everything has been moving too fast—like I’m already running out of time.

I asked Ananya to be my maid of honor, and she could barely contain her excitement—even though we both knew none of this was real.

It was strange how easily she slipped into the role.

The idea of being someone’s bride felt strange. Like it didn’t belong to me.

Tristan suggested having the best designers handpick my dress, but I declined. If I was doing this, I needed to choose what I wore—at least he could give me that.

The bridal shop door chimed and suddenly I was drowning in veils and lights. The air smelled faintly of roses and lavender.

Racks and racks of white—silk, satin, lace—layers of it hanging like ghosts drifting without direction. Some beaded until they sparkled. Some plain enough to look like clouds you could disappear into.

A soft instrumental song was playing from somewhere—piano, maybe. It was supposed to be calming. It wasn’t. It just made my head hurt.

Ananya gasped before I could even take it all in. “Natasha, look!” She was already running her fingers down a dress with a train that could cover half the room.

“Hello, ladies. Welcome to Aurora Bridal Atelier. How can I help you today?” The saleswoman greeted us with a smile.

I was about to say something when Ananya beat me to it. “We’re here to shop for my friend, duh!” she squealed.

“Ananya—”I tapped her lightly, then turned to the woman. “I’m so sorry.”

The woman’s smile didn’t fade. “Oh, please. It’s no problem at all. Take your time. Try anything. It’s your moment.”

My moment? The words felt unreal. “Thank you,” I said.

We walked further in. Other brides filled the boutique. One stood on a velvet platform, veil pinned to her hair, laughing while an older woman—her mother, I guessed—dabbed at her eyes. Another was twisting in front of a three-way mirror, whispering to her friend. Real brides—or something close.

And me? I was gearing up to play dress-up for a wedding that meant nothing. Scratch that—a wedding that could save my family. Almost laughable.

I wrapped my arms around myself. The shop suddenly felt cold. Every gown here was built for someone who was certain.

The mirrors didn’t help. They kept showing me a girl in a shop she shouldn’t be in, picking a dress for a lie.

Ananya held up a dress with delicate lace sleeves. “This one would look stunning on you.”

Stunning. Yeah, sure.

My fingers brushed against the fabric in front of me—soft, expensive, real, unlike everything else.

“Mhmm,” I mumbled.

As if sensing my detachment, Ananya draped her arms around my shoulders. “I know this is hard, really. But think of it this way… it’s not forever. You said it yourself, until your father’s company is stable, it might not take long. It’s just temporary.”

She wasn’t wrong, but it still didn’t make the situation right either. Lucas died a few months ago. I never pictured my marriage being with someone I wasn’t in love with. It had always been him.

We talked about our wedding, the setting—minimal, but memorable. The kind of cake I wanted. Dress. Honeymoon. Everything had been with Lucas.

I exhaled softly. “You’re right,” I said, turning to the saleswoman. “Can I see the custom piece you have?”

“Right this way.” She gestured toward a more secluded area.

We hadn’t even gone far when a familiar cologne drifted through the air. It hit me immediately.

Tristan.

What was he doing here? More importantly, how did he know where I was?

“Tristan is here,” I said quietly.

Ananya raised a brow. “And how could you possibly know that?”

We headed back to the lobby to check if it was truly him. His back turned to us. I’d recognize that stance anywhere.

I was about to call out to him when I saw his grandmother and sister. My expression softened. “Adelina, Patricia—you’re here.”

“Natasha darling,” Adelina said, pulling me into a warm embrace. “We thought we should surprise you.”

“Thank you,” I said, facing Ananya, who wouldn’t stop staring at Tristan. “Ananya, this is Adelina, Tristan’s grandmother, and Patricia, his sister. “And this…” I said, looking at Tristan now, “…is Tristan.”

Ananya’s attention finally shifted to Adelina. “Hello. Lovely meeting you,” she said, walking toward them as she pulled them aside. The three of them drifted into conversation.

My eyes finally met Tristan’s. He hadn’t said a word since he got here. His expression was unreadable.

Before I could say anything, whispers were flying around. Everyone’s attention turned to us.

Of course.

“Is Tristan finally getting married?”

“Is that his bride-to-be?”

I grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the lobby into a more private space. “What are you doing here?”

The corner of his lips curved into a smile. “Shopping for your wedding dress without me? I’m offended.” He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically.

I rubbed my forehead. “No, seriously, what are you doing here? Are you following me? Besides, isn’t your grandmother ill… why would you bring her here?”

He studied me for a moment, gaze dragging over me, slow and unhurried, like he was memorizing every inch.

I snapped my fingers. “Hello! Eyes up here.”

His jaw tightened. When his grey eyes met mine, they were dark and heavy. “Which one of your questions do you want me to answer first?” His voice dropped lower.

“I don’t know. Tell me.”

I watched as he tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ear. “I’m here because Abuela insisted on being here,” he said finally.

That made sense. But still…

“How do you know I was here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He hesitated for a split second. “You’re… predictable.”

I shot him a deadly glance. “No, I’m not.”

Silence stretched between us.

His gaze locked onto mine.

I looked away first. “I think I should go back there. I haven’t tried on any dresses. And if Adelina came here for me, I should be with her.”

“Well,” he said, tucking his hands in his pockets. “You dragged me here.”

“Right. That I did.”

I moved to step around him, but his fingers closed gently around my arm—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to stop me. “Wait,” he said.

My breath caught.

Slowly, he lifted my chin, forcing my eyes back to his.

The space between us suddenly felt small.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Am I okay? Why wouldn’t I be?

“Yes… yes, I’m fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You look… tense,” he said, tilting his head to the side, studying my face the same way he had in my father’s office.

Tense is an understatement for what I was feeling. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to get married—especially not to him.

“I’m okay.” I pulled away from him. “We should really get back there. They’re probably looking for us.”

He looked at me longer than necessary. “Sure. We should.”

He stepped aside, allowing me to pass. He fell into step behind me.

The moment we walked into the lobby, Adelina spotted us immediately. “There you are.”

Ananya gave me a suspicious look, mouthing something I couldn’t quite make out.

Patricia stood nearby, flipping through dresses on the rail.

She finally walked over to us, holding up two dresses against herself dramatically. “Alright, serious question,” she said. “Do we want a classy bride or a gorgeous bride?”

Ananya gasped. “Wait, there’s a difference?”

Adelina laughed softly, shaking her head as she settled into one of the velvet chairs nearby.

For a moment, the atmosphere felt strangely warm—lighter than I expected.

The saleswoman returned shortly after, her smile widening the second her eyes set on Tristan. Her posture straightened almost immediately. “Mr. Castillo,” she greeted politely. “It’s an honor to have you here.”

Tristan nodded once. “We’ll need a private fitting room,” he said calmly. “Somewhere more exclusive.”

The woman blinked quickly before recovering. “Of course. Right this way.”

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten. Irritation spread through me. It felt like he was taking over already.

But then, my eyes drifted toward Adelina. She looked tired despite the smile on her face. Fragile beneath the elegance she carried so well.

I watched him guide Adelina forward, his touch careful, his voice calm as he talked to her.

And suddenly, I understood. This wasn’t really about control. It was about making sure his family was comfortable.

Tristan glanced at me briefly, like he could somehow tell exactly what was going through my mind. “After you,” he said quietly.

I swallowed the irritation and gave a small nod. Ananya walked up beside me, gripping my arm firmly. “What was that about?” she whispered softly.

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “You and Tristan of course. Both of you disappeared from us.”

I looked toward the private fitting room ahead of us. “It’s nothing.”

I could feel Ananya giving me a look that clearly said she didn’t believe me. “If you say so, Tash.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but words never came out.

Because for the first time since all of this began… I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to say anything.