Emily's POV.
The church bells had chimed, their hollow sound echoing in my ears as I stepped into the grand space. My stomach churned with every step I took, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. The air smelled of roses and incense, a sickening combination that made my throat tighten.
My hands clenched the bouquet of white roses so tightly I felt the thorns pressing into my palms. Around me, people beamed with joy, their eyes glittering with excitement. They didn’t see the farce unfolding before them. They didn’t see the hatred.
At the altar, Cole stood tall, his posture rigid, his expression a mask of cold detachment. He was maddeningly perfect in his suit, his dark hair flawlessly styled.
I hated him for it. I hated him for everything. My fingers dug deeper into the bouquet,
