Chapter 4 - The Wedding and the revelation.

The church was more stunning than I had dreamed yet I was unable to appreciate it.

I grabbed the arm of my father and my fingers shook as I tried to calm my heart. Each beat was louder than the music that was playing in the background and resonating in my chest.

“You ready, huh?” my father said, his eyes going up and down my body.

“I… I believe so, I said to myself, with a voice scarcely audible.

Nothing more was said, and I was only given a look that sunk my stomach. I gulp and shook my head, and had to walk.

When we reached  the doorway a silence settled on the crowd, and was succeeded by mumbled mutterings. Camera flash, every step of mine down the aisle. I felt dozens of eyes upon me, evaluating, judging, anticipating. My expression was calm, like Alina would have been, but  my heart was pounding like a drum. Each move was a reminder that I was not Alina, I was acting, and all smiles that I had to make were lies.

Damien was at the altar, and he looked calm in his black tuxedo, his stance flawless, his eyes sweeping over the church, and then finally settling on me. When his eyes looked up at me, I shivered. His eyes were dark, and intense and unblinking. I might have sworn I could feel them searching, probing, and I struggled to hold myself together. I curved my lips in a soft smile, and imagined it was Alina, the bride he was supposed to have, the one everybody wanted him to have.

The voice of the priest reverberated in church. “We have come together this day to witness the matrimonial union of Damien Blackwood and Alina Hale.”

I choked and imitated all the movements Alina could have made. I turned my head down a bit and raised my chin at the right time and quietly said to myself,

Stay calm. Breathe. Don’t let him see anything. You can do this.

Damien came nearer, and held my hands. His hand was firm yet soft. My fingers twitched a little in his, and I clenched them. Each inch that I came nearer made me all too conscious of how much he could observe, of how he could find out the truth so easily.

The priest said. “Do you, Damien Blackwood, take Alina Hale, to be your lawfully married wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, until death part you?”

“I do, “ said Damien, and his voice was deep and steady and echoed in the silent church.

“And do you, Alina Hale, accept Damien Blackwood as your lawfully married husband, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty until death part you?”

I gulp and said, I do, my voice trembling a little then I made myself sound confident. I could hear my heart beat in my ears, but I kept the ideal mask of a bride, as my father insisted.

“Now by the authority with me, I declare you husband and wife. You  kiss the bride,” said the priest with a smiling face.

Damien leaned in. Then very cautiously he pulled up the veil.

Time froze. My breath caught in my throat. I watched his eyes just open, a little, an inch of astonishment in the manner of his gaze. I felt the recognition, but he made no comment. His jaw clenched a second and I was sure, he was sure. He knew it wasn’t Alina. He knew it was me.

And yet… he didn’t pull back. He kissed me. He remained near my side till the end of the ceremony, and silently watched over the charade. Every step I took, he was there.

The ceremony was concluded with the guests cheering and applauding and congratulating each other. “Congratulations!” they shouted. I smiled and nodded and maintained my voice. “Thanks,” I said, my throat parched, heart racing like a drum.

Damien stayed near me at the reception. He could laugh at the right time, he could say polite words to the guests, shake hands, and smile, still, I could feel that he was always looking at me. Every look had a strain I could not make out, a silent recognition of what he had learned. It put me on my nerves, embarrassed me, and at the same time made me strangely reassured. He hadn’t exposed me. He had not ruined everything, yet.

I walked around the reception with a smile on my face greeting people, nodding to people I knew, taking compliments about my dress, my hair, my makeup. “You are beautiful, Alina and you are slimmed down, good girl, “ said one of the guests. I nodded, and had to smile again, taking care not to tell the truth.

“Where is your sister?” An old friend of dad asked. “I haven’t seen her around.”

“Um...she-she had to go out of the country a few days ago because of her health. “ I told a lie and the woman Just shook her head and went.

Each word was a lie on my tongue, yet each lie had to be. Every smile was armor.

Hours passed like minutes. The music died down, the final guests started to depart, and the room was filled with no more chatter and laughter. I sighed, believing maybe the worst was over but then I saw Damien come in our way, his face unreadable.

“We must speak,” he said to himself, but with a sternness. He waved me and my father to come behind him.

We strolled to a little private room at the rear of the church. The door banged behind us, shutting off the remains of the reception. Damien looked first to my father, and then turned to me, and looked piercing, calculating, and intense.

“Alright,” said he, and his voice was measured but sharp, and there was no chance of lying. “I need answers. What is happening! Why is it Ariana in the wedding dress and not Alina!”