Arranged Marriage To Another Juliet (GxG)—[ENGLISH VERSION]

Chapter 8

She wore a simple coat—simple, yet elegant. Beautiful from head to toe. Underneath, I could glimpse a soft, flowing dress that moved gently as she walked, hinting at grace and quiet sophistication. Her smile made my heart race, made it hard to breathe. All I could hear was the melody of my own heartbeat.

“I love you, my daughter,” Dad said. He kissed me on the cheek and placed my hand into the hands of the beautiful woman standing before me.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t understand anything. Earlier, all I could see was Abcde.

Earlier, joy and excitement swirled inside me as I approached the altar, but now, it had all vanished. I couldn’t grasp what I was feeling.

I looked at Abcde, intending to seek help, but all I saw was him smiling at me. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t stop us now.

We walked forward until we reached the front. I could feel all eyes on us, whispers surrounding us—some judging, some admiring, but I no longer cared. The woman beside me made my heart pound faster than I thought possible. She looked at me, and I saw her lips move, silently saying, sorry. I simply nodded and turned to face the man in front of us. It was obvious he came from another country, the way he spoke, the way he carried himself. I knew this marriage was just a civil arrangement.

Yet… why was I still simply feeling happy?

A warmth spread through me, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Her hand in mine felt grounding, comforting, and somehow thrilling all at once. I could feel her energy, quiet, steady, but alive like a flame dancing in the wind. My chest tightened and then softened; my mind swirled with confusion, wonder, and a strange excitement I didn’t expect to feel here, at this moment, it was meant to be formal and controlled.

And when I looked at her again, really looked, I saw her own tiny hesitations mirrored in her eyes: a mix of nervousness, anticipation, and something gentler, sweeter—an unspoken joy. Even in this structured, prearranged moment, I felt her presence wrap around me like a secret promise, and I couldn’t help but let a small, helpless smile escape.

The wedding ceremony flowed smoothly, and this time, she received the wedding ring from the little boy. She took my hands, and before sliding the ring onto my finger, she spoke:

“Old things may be forgotten, but the rhythm of our hearts will always stay on the right track. Angel, you may forget me, but I am here now—because this is what my heart sees as right—and I keep my promises, my angel.” Her words left me confused,

“Zyhra, from the moment our paths crossed, my heart has known a rhythm I cannot explain. You are my calm in chaos, my courage in fear, and the warmth I never knew I needed. I promise to honor you at every moment, to listen even when words fail, and to hold your hand through every storm, every joy, and every quiet moment in between. I vow to see you—truly see you—every single day, with patience, kindness, and unwavering love."

My chest tightened as each word fell like music into my ears. My heart thudded in my ribcage, a mix of disbelief and awe, as if every syllable Veronica spoke was weaving directly into her soul. I felt warmth pooling in my stomach, a fluttering I could not control, and yet there was a grounding comfort in it, too—like finally arriving somewhere I had been searching for without knowing.

"I promise to laugh with you, to cry with you, and to share in the small wonders of life, because every ordinary moment becomes extraordinary with you by my side. I cannot promise that life will always be easy, but I can promise that I will never let you face it alone. I give you my heart, my trust, and my soul, not just today, but for everyday we are granted together.

And though this world may try to define love in ways that do not fit us, I choose you, Zyhra, every single day. You are my home, my heart, my love, and my forever.”

As she slipped the ring onto my finger, I noticed the tears welling in her eyes. I could see the sincerity in her every word and action. If Veronica were a man, I would have been the luckiest woman alive. Loving her wasn’t difficult, but I had to stop myself from falling in love. This was the final act of reason, the limit of what I could allow

—this arranged marriage, nothing more.

Yet from now on, I was married to another Juliet,

not a Romeo.

Could a Juliet fall in love with another Juliet?

My hands trembled slightly as they clasped Veronica’s, and I had to swallow hard to keep my emotions in check. Every promise, every gentle confession, struck a chord deep within me. It was thrilling, terrifying, and beautiful all at once.

Then it was my turn. I took the ring. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t ready.

“Veronica… I don’t know what life awaits us after this. I can’t promise anything—only to give you a chance.” I was surprised by my own words. I didn’t expect them to come out. There was no turning back now. “—prove to me, it’s worthwhile enough,” my lips added without my permission.

Her face lit up at my words.

Tears pricked my eyes—not of sadness, but of an overwhelming realization: that someone had chosen me so completely, so tenderly, that she couldn’t help but want to give myself back in return. My lips quivered in a small, breathless smile, and I felt my pulse racing as though my heart was trying to answer Veronica’s words in its own secret language.

I knew, at that moment, that love wasn’t just something whispered or felt, it was being given, being promised, being shared. And I wanted nothing more than to meet it fully, with all the courage and trust I could muster.

Minutes later, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. All eyes were on us when the officiant said,

“You may kiss now and feel the presence of love.”

This wasn’t our first kiss, but this was the one everyone had been waiting for. The one my heart had been quietly longing for.

Veronica leaned closer, and before I could think, before I could weigh the risks or the impossibilities, her lips pressed against mine.

It caught me off guard. I wasn’t in control—couldn’t be. My mind tried to protest, reminding me this was an arranged marriage, that everything was supposed to be formal and measured, that I was supposed to keep my distance but my body, my heart, my very soul surrendered.

Her lips were soft, insistent, gentle yet commanding. I melted into her, letting the confusion and hesitation swirl around me without resistance. I didn’t stop to question what I was feeling or what it meant. I just let it happen, letting her guide me into this unfamiliar, intoxicating territory.

Every nerve in my body screamed, every thought of caution drowned in the warmth and electricity of her touch. My hands found hers without thinking, my body leaning closer, and a tremor ran through me: part fear, part longing, part surrender. I didn’t want to fight it. I didn’t want to stop.

Even though I was confused, still trying to understand what this marriage meant, still unsure of what love was in this context—I let myself fall, completely and willingly, into this kiss.

My heartbeat raced, my chest ached, and my mind went blank.

All that existed was her. All that mattered was the raw, undeniable connection between us, a connection I hadn’t asked for but couldn’t resist.

When our lips finally parted, my forehead rested against hers, and I realized I wasn’t frightened anymore—not fully.

I was trembling,

yes, confused, yes

—but I was also willing.

Willing to surrender, to feel, to let whatever this was exist between us, even if I didn’t fully understand it yet.

Around us, applause erupted, but I barely heard it. The world had shrunk to just us, two hearts thrown together by fate, by arrangement, by something neither of us could control and yet, for the first time, I didn’t care. I just let myself be.