Chapter 2

Nicole:

The gown that my stepmother had made me wear was ridiculously hideous with sleeves that made me feel more like a twelve-year-old than a mature adult.

I sat in the corner of Tiffany's dressing room, watching the makeup artists adorn her face with makeup as she vlogged the whole thing.

" Nicole! Help me get a bottle of water. I'm so thirsty" she said, whining as usual.

She had perfected that act, perhaps she thought it made her sound cute, I could not tell.

" You can send someone else," I said plainly.

She pushed the hands of the makeup artist away as she turned to look at me, a small smirk on her face.

" Why have you been so bitter all day? What? Do you want to be the one getting married to a handsome CEO?" She taunted.

I focused on braiding my hair back, not paying her any heed. She wanted to get a rise out of me and I knew it. I could not give her that satisfaction.

" Is she not like your older sister? And you are getting married before her? Oh, I'm so jealous of you!" One of her friends who made up the bridal train said.

I scoffed. Just like Tiffany, she was a fake bimbo who thought the whole world revolved around her.

" I know, I honestly feel so sad that I'm leaving my father's house before her. But what can I do? My father probably will not find a suitor for her. She looks so hideous and does not even know how to do makeup up" she said, smirking as she turned back to face the makeup artist.

I looked at her, my eyes glaring and boring into the back of her head. Perhaps if I set her hair on fire no one would notice.

I was not jealous of her. If anything, I was glad that she was getting married. That would mean more privacy for me and less of her to deal with.

I wanted the whole charade to be over so I could go to the hospital and pay a little visit to my patients before retiring for the day.

I still had no idea how to get the money for my mother's bills and the thought about it made me have a migraine.

" I saw your husband just now," a friend of hers said as she stumbled inside.

Tiffany hummed in satisfaction. I could see the broad smile on her lips as she dreamt about it, about the power and fame that would come with the position.

" Oh, I feel so sorry for you. Imagine getting married to an invalid. You will have your hands full! Would you still be able to hang out with us when we leave for Bora Bora?" She asked and again, Tiffany stopped the makeup artist to turn and look at her friends.

" What do you mean invalid? I'm supposed to get married to Justin. Right?" She asked.

The panic was already beginning to spread on her face and it took a lot from me to not break down right there and start chuckling.

" No, the groom is a very handsome man but he is in a wheelchair. He is the first son of the Dwayne family" she said and Tiffany gasped as though her life had just crashed over her head.

" No no no! My mother will never do that to me. All of you, get out right now!" She yelled.

I saw her face of panic just as I left and I flashed her a smirk, causing her to wince as she typed furiously on her phone.

The wedding procedures were going on smoothly.

The halls were decorated with red and white furnishings, a touch of gold around them, giving the whole venue an ethereal look.

I was still pacing around the venue when a servant came to tap me on the shoulders, asking that I come with her to the bride's dressing room.

I shrugged, walking along with her as my thoughts drifted to the delicacies I would treat myself to at the wedding today. That is if she did not end up canceling it.

My stepmother and Tiffany were the only people in the room when I came in.

" You asked for me?" I said simply, not in the mood for small talk.

" You will do perfectly," she said, nodding her head as Tiffany now smiled.

I did not know what they both planned, or why Tiffany who was so close to bursting into tears was now smiling, but I knew I did not like it.

" What am I doing?" I asked, too scared of the answer I might get.

" You will be marrying that invalid man in place of Tiffany," she said, as though it was something so simple, as though what they were suggesting was not my life, was not my dream.

I was too stunned to speak for a while, just looking at them.

" I won't be getting married to him" I finally said.

My stepmother gave me a small smirk, as though she knew something that I did not know.

" You know, I went to pay your mother a visit in the hospital yesterday," she said and I felt my heart begin to thump loudly in my chest.

She knew where my mother was. Did she know I was a student doctor? Perhaps someone had told her?

" I don't...." I was beginning to say but she stopped me with one single wave of her hand.

" Oh don't play dumb with me. I'm doing this for your good. She was in such a bad situation, you know? Could not even breathe properly. The shame of it all.

And the amount for her bill? Oh goodness, where would you see such an amount between now and tomorrow?" She asked, every single word feeling like a bullet wedged in between my heart.

She knew my weakness. And she knew just how well to utilize it.

" What do you want?" I asked her.

" Well, I would rather die than watch my daughter marry someone so, immobile. She is a queen, not a slave. So you do it. And I can promise you that your mother's treatment will be covered in full. I will send the money to you, right now, right here" she said.

I swallowed.

Marriage.

I did not have a problem with that word. But it was what came at the expense of that worried me.

My dream. If I get married now, I will have to leave my dreams, bury them deep, and begin to serve as a wife to a man I did not know.

A knock came on the door and a servant poked her head in.

" Hello, I was asked to check if the bride is ready," she asked.

" The bride will be ready in a few minutes" my stepmother answered.

When the girl finally left again, she looked at me.

With that look in her eyes. She knew that she had won.

" So what will it be?" She asked.

>>>>

The gown was uncomfortable when I finally put it on. The makeup felt too heavy and the veil was too scratchy.

As I walked down the aisle, my father holding my hand, I pondered on my decision again.

Yes.

I had said yes for my mother’s sake.