Our Love

CHAPTER 19

SERAPHINA'S POV

*Few Weeks Later*

Few Weeks Later

Oh, how time flies. It’s finally my wedding day. Normally, brides are supposed to be happy on their wedding day — but that wasn’t the case for me.

Sighing once again, I went into the bathroom to take a bath as the makeup artists were already banging on my door.

The moment I stepped out of the shower, I was ambushed by a swarm of makeup artists — one blow-drying my hair, another defining my curls, another perfecting the design, and another adding final touches. By the time they were done, my head was spinning from the rush of it all.

They all stepped back to admire their work, some gawking, others openly drooling. Concerned there might be something wrong, I touched my face and asked, “Is there something on my face?”

The hairstylist smiled. “Yes, darling — beauty.”

Another added, lovestruck, “She’s already so beautiful without makeup.”

My hair designer sighed dreamily. “It’s rare to find natural beauty these days. Your husband sure is a lucky man.”

I smiled bitterly to myself. If only they knew the circumstances of our marriage.

They went on to apply a dark shade of red lipstick to my lips — it made my eyes pop, they said. A few finishing touches with eyeliner and mascara, and we were done.

stared at my reflection, barely recognizing the woman in the mirror. Even with my plain look , I was beautiful — but now, with all the jewelries I was adorned with, I looked ethereal. The makeup artists had truly done an amazing job. I loved the hair design most of all; delicate white lilies were woven into my red curls, making the color stand out vividly.

Standing, I gave a small twirl. My gown flared around me, and the room erupted with gasps.

“Oh my God, she’s stunning.”

“Beauty and a perfect figure!”

“I’d marry her if I were a man.”

“Her husband is damn lucky.”

I blushed faintly at their words, though inside, I felt nothing close to lucky.

HAYDEN'S POV

In my presidential suite on the morning of my wedding, I was lounging in the bathtub while my two best men — Jake and Daniel — ranted about how I wasn’t even dressed yet and would be late for my own wedding. Like I cared.

With a quiet sigh, I rose from the tub, wrapping a towel around my waist as water dripped down my skin. Jake — my personal assistant — and Daniel — my high school best friend — rushed in with my suit.

Between the two of them shouting instructions, I dried my hair and brushed it back. My slicked black hair and green eyes stared back from the mirror — composed, indifferent. A feast for the eyes, perhaps, but empty all the same.

In no time, I was dressed and ready for what everyone called the happiest day of my life.

To me, it was just another duty.