2| Freya

"No." Mom's voice breaks down, "Don't say this."

"Mrs. Howard, I need to go back to Church for a daily prayer session. Besides, we have to accept that this beautiful bride has to return home." Priest argues.

I slide down the veil from my head and ruffle my hair. The crowd continues to shrink. People now would have gotten the hint that there is no wedding here anymore.

"My daughter's life will be destroyed." Mom begins sobbing, turning to Dad, "Mason, why are you not doing anything. People will gossip about our daughter. That's not how I wanted her first public appearance."

"I'm out of ideas, Amanda." Dad says out of frustration.

Sighing, I lower my head on the floor. They still have hope, but I don't.

I don't know how I should be behaving right now. I want to cry too like Mom, but I'm too astounded to do that.

"Amanda, you need to calm down." It's Rafe's mother.

"Calm down? Are you Eastmonds out of your minds?" Mom raises her voice, "You should have told us if Rafe had problems with this marriage instead of toying with my daughter's image."

This family drama increases my exasperation. I want to shout at them to just shut up and dismiss. The show is over now. I know how much our families care about us. Mom's crying is only about the disgrace of our family name. Once we'll be alone she will put all the blame on me.

"I'm seeing him." Rafe's father says.

"You ladies need to shush for a minute."

After a while, I hear Mia saying aloud, "Rafe is here. Freya, Rafe is here."

A confusion crosses my face. I look up straight. A man in a crispy, charcoal grey suit is taking quick, long steps towards the stage, towards us. My eyes widen in full circles when I recognize him.

He stops in front of his parents, "I'm here, Mom." Says in a calm tone then stands with his both hands on his torso. "I apologize for being late, Father." He apologetically bends his head a little, "My flight...de-layed."

He is lying. I know he's lying.

Astonishingly I rise on my feet, examine his appearance. He is perfectly dressed from head to toe, only his hairs are being a mess. They are going in every direction as if he forgot to comb them or he messed them up out of anger. His face is however devoid of any emotion.

"You could've informed us. Do you have any idea how long we all waiti--"

"Let it go." His mother interrupts, "Aren't you happy he's here? You don't have to be angry at him every single time. Come here, my darling." She steps forward and hugs him, "I was so worried sick for you. You were about to kill your mother."

"It’s okay, Mom." He hugs her back, "I'm alright and I'm sorry for making you wait."

My gaze remains on him, unmoved, but he doesn't give a single glance in my direction. The guilt is swirling around me.

He puts his chin on his mother's shoulder and keeps on gazing at something ahead. His jaws tighten. I realize I haven't seen him after that mishap took place at Fete.

Countless questions are prowling in my head that I want to ask from him, but I'm too scared about what type of reaction I'll get.

"I don't think we should further delay the ceremony. Our guests are waiting. Let's begin." Rafe's father announces.

My heart skips a beat out of fear. His mother releases him from the hug and looks at him. He gives a silent, slow nod. Another wave of surprise trickles through me.

Why is he doing that? Why is he not stopping the wedding?

My bridesmaids come to me and re-arrange my veil along with my hair. I keep staring at Rafe to get his attention, but he deliberately avoids looking at me.

I notice his face turns pale and the veins on the stem of his neck vibrate, explaining that he is trying to hide what he is actually feeling which is perhaps reluctance, fury and helplessness.

I know him. I know he is not ready for this marriage. He will never be ready, but why did he come here? I made up my mind to endure the consequences if this ceremony would have been cancelled. He got his chance to escape. He could have escaped this forced marriage.

Once everything settles down, Rafe and I are left alone on the stage with the priest. We face each other.

My anxiety triples when the priest begins reciting the verses of the Bible. His voice echoes in the hall, silencing every other voice.

I dare to look straight into Rafe's eyes. Finally I earn a look from him. He gazes at me with clenched jaws. I catch the hint of moisture in them. Guilt increases in me. I try to reflect my powerlessness through my eyes to communicate with him. His face flushes with anger. I'm about to break down into tears.

"Since it is your intention to enter into the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your rights hands and declare your consent before God and his Church."

Rafe steps forward and takes my hand roughly into his. His eyes don't leave mine. He states his vow with gritted teeth, "I, Rafael Eastmond take you, Freya Howard to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad..." His grip on my hand becomes stronger. I suppress my moan, "in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all days of my life."

People in the hall applaud aloud as he completes his declaration. I hear whistles and cheers, but our staring game continues. My body has turned cold and he is probably feeling it.

"Congratulations to both of your families. Now it's your turn." The priest faces me.

I gulp the painful lump in my mouth, break the eye contact with Rafe and look around. I see every single pair of eyes on me, waiting for my declaration.

This emotional turmoil is killing me. My dreams about my marriage are about to crush and shatter. I don't want to do this.

Rafe gives a pull to my hand to make me look at him again, quirking his brow, "Say it." He mutters so lowly, only I can hear him.

I shake my head a little. His grip on my hand tightens. "I'm sorry, Rafe." I say in a low voice, wriggling my hand under his grip.

"Just say it, Freya." This time it sounds like a warning, "You were the eager one."

My lips tremble. I press them together to hold back my tears, still a few tears roll down my cheeks.

"Is there any problem, kid?" The priest looks at me in suspicion.

I slowly shake my head and compose myself. "Say your pledge. People are waiting." He asks.

I look back at Rafe, "I, Freya Howard take you, Rafael Eastmond to be my Hus-sband..."

Rafe stares back at me, his eyes are devoid of emotions. I'm losing him. I'm losing my best friend. We will never be like we used to be. He will despise me for the rest of our lives.

"I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

As soon as my vow ends, Rafe leaves my hand with a jerk and steps back. Some more tears spill down my face. I quickly dry them.

I don't know what future holds for us, but one thing is certain. This has ruined our strong friendship. Things will never be the same between us. Rafe will never forgive me. I lost my boyfriend and now a friend too.

The ceremony continues and we both repeat other wedding vows after the priest. Those vows are so holy and sacred, I can't believe either of us do not mean them.

I wouldn't be surprised if I receive a bad luck afterwards. It is a big sin.

"Now exchange rings." The priest says. I enlarge my pupils.

Mom brings the ring forward to Rafe first. Rafe stares at the ring and I stare at him.

That damn ring. Everything started because of this ring. It was supposed to be thrown into a bin.

Rafe takes the ring and holds it for some seconds. His nostrils flare. I literally feel the urge to go on my knees right now in front of him to beg for his forgiveness. He would have been in anguish to hold another man's ring.

He takes my hand in his and without looking at me he puts the ring into my finger.

"Rafe..." I breathe his name. It's barely audible.

Rafe's mother comes to me and offers the groom's ring to me. I hold Rafe's hand. It is cold. He is tensed too. My whole self drenches in utter guilt.

I slip the ring into his finger. People clap and whistle again.

"Because they have exchanged their vows before God and these witnesses, have pledged their commitment to each other and have declared the same by joining hands and by exchanging rings, I now pronounce them husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." The priest gives his declarative statement.

I notice Rafe clenches his fists as he steps towards me. I hold my breath. The guests in the hall continue making happy sounds. Rafe's face remains unreadable. He leans forward, tilts his head. I stiffen and squeeze my eyes shut.

I feel his lips on mine only for a second. The kiss ends before even my mind can register it. When I open my eyes I see Rafe is standing at some distance, not even looking at me. I exhale out a breath I was holding.

Even though everything has already been devastated, I whisper thank you's to God for ending these punishing moments, for ending this ceremony. At least I and Rafe now do not have to do awkward things.

Rafe and I can never feel anything romantic to each other. It's far, far more impossible than our families can imagine. It's awkward and difficult. We took each other as siblings, for heaven's sake.

When the ceremony concludes, Rafe quickly steps down from the stage and gets lost into the crowd, while I receive hugs from random people. They draw circles around me and say things I don't bother listening to. My ears and mind are numb. They also click pictures with me.

The session continues for I guess half an hour and then I see Mia coming to me, sidelining the crowd and making a way for herself.

"Sis, your reception and dance has been cancelled. Rafe said he is tired and wants rest so he requested to go home. Mom and Dad are asking about you."

I nod and start walking with her. I feel relieved. I don't have to pretend as a bride anymore. I already had enough of a day.

...

After seeing off my family, Rafe and I get settled at the back seat of a car. Driver on a front seat, driving the vehicle, taking us God knows where. I'm now alone with Rafe.

The agonizing silence between us is hurting me. It's unusual. We normally talk nonstop on random topics especially bad mouth our families and their harsh customs. We never stay quiet in each other's company.

I do want to talk to him, beg for his forgiveness, and ask why he came today, but my mouth is unable to form any word. I turn my head and hesitantly look at him. Wetness appears in my eyes as I recall the grim situation we are in. We are sitting here as husband and wife and not as best friends.

His face is cold. It's hard to figure out what is going on in his head. After a while he looks outside from his side of the window and then demands from the driver, "Stop the car."

The driver listens to him and presses the brakes. Car stops. He opens his side door.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

He stops, but doesn't look at me. He turns his face towards the driver, "Take her home. You'll get keys from the security guards."

"Okay, sir." Driver responds.

Afterwards, he leaves the car in an instant and closes the door behind. I call his name once, but he ignores. He walks towards the roadside and the car drives forward.

I understood his hint. He has done playing my husband's role. And what else can I expect that we would now live as happily newly-weds in our new home? I don't even know where my new home is or what it looks like.

I rest my head on the headrest behind and ponder that it is just the beginning of another round of miseries.