I Do
1225 Words
Unlike most girls, I’ve never pictured myself in a dreamy wedding dress, walking down the aisle to meet the love of my life.
No.
My stepmother made sure of that.
She drilled it into me over the years—subtly, cruelly—that weddings weren’t meant for girls like me.
Girls without mothers.
Girls who were… illegitimate.
So now, standing in front of the full-length mirror, I’m at a loss for words.
The gown clings to me, silk and lace cascading down my body, the train trailing behind like a quiet whisper. It’s off-shoulder, elegant, expensive—everything I’m not.
Before I can protest, Vanessa steps forward, fastening the lacy piece around my neck, letting it drape down my arms.
Vivienne moves behind me, gathering my hair into a neat bun before placing the veil over my face.
It shields me.
Hides me.
Good.
He’s not supposed to see my face anyway.
He.
Alexander Vandercrest.
A faint shiver runs down my spine.
I’ve never seen him in person, but I’ve heard enough.
No one crosses him and walks away unscathed.
Deals, enemies, rivals—it doesn’t matter. Once you’re on his bad side, you don’t recover.
Ruthless.
Untouchable.
And I’m about to deceive him.
The thought alone makes my stomach twist.
I slip into the custom-made heels, the final piece of a life that was never meant to be mine.
When I turn, Vivienne is already pulling on my sweatsuit. It hangs awkwardly on her slim frame, like it doesn’t belong to her.
Unlike the dress.
Unlike this moment.
A flicker of insecurity rises in my chest, sharp and unwanted.
“Please,” she says, her tone tight, “don’t screw this up for me.”
At least she said please.
“I’ll try,” I reply quietly.
Vanessa suddenly straightens, pulling her phone away from her ear.
“It’s time,” she says quickly. “You’ll follow me. Vee, you leave through the back.”
“Good luck!” Vivienne calls out as I’m led away.
My heart slams violently against my chest, each beat louder than the last. My hands tremble. My legs feel unsteady beneath me.
As the soft swell of classical music reaches my ears, nausea rises in my throat.
I want to stop.
God—I want to turn around and run.
But I can’t.
This might be my only chance at something… anything.
The doors open.
A wave of white smoke rolls in, thick and blinding. I can barely see a step ahead.
Then—
A hand wraps around mine.
Firm. Familiar.
I gasp, turning slightly.
My father.
He smiles warmly, pride evident in his eyes.
“You look beautiful, Vivienne.”
The words hit like a blade to the chest.
He doesn’t even notice.
Doesn’t even hesitate.
And yet… he loves her so easily.
He guides me forward, leading me through the haze. The crystals above catch the light, reflecting against the beads on my dress until I almost glow.
Like I belong here.
Like I’m her.
The smoke begins to thin.
And then—
I see him.
Alexander Vandercrest.
Standing at the altar.
Still. Composed. Watching.
Even from a distance, his presence is overwhelming. The kind that demands silence. The kind that makes the air feel heavier.
My pulse spikes violently.
One thought echoes in my mind.
He knows.
It’s too late to turn back now.
The smoke clears completely.
And Alexander Vandercrest is waiting.
My father releases my hand, and just like that, I feel it.
Alone.
Completely alone.
The distance between us widens as he steps back, leaving me standing before Alexander. My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay still—even as my body threatens to betray me with every tremble.
The priest begins to speak.
His voice echoes softly through the hall, steady and practiced, but the words barely register in my head. The crowd settles into silence, the earlier excitement fading into something more reverent.
He’s still staring at me.
I can feel it.
Alexander’s gaze doesn’t waver—not even for a second. It’s heavy. Intent. Like he’s trying to see through the veil, through the lace, through me.
His brows are slightly drawn, his expression unreadable.
I can’t tell if he’s captivated…
Or suspicious.
My pulse spikes.
So I look down.
At the polished marble beneath my feet. At the faint reflection of my dress shimmering against the floor. Anywhere but him.
My head still throbs, and for a terrifying second, I wonder if I’m swaying.
If he can see it.
If everyone can.
“…we are gathered here today to witness the union…”
The priest’s voice fades in and out, words blending into meaningless sounds as my thoughts spiral.
Don’t mess this up.
Don’t trip.
Don’t speak too much.
Don’t get caught.
A shift in front of me makes my breath hitch.
Alexander moves.
Just slightly—but enough.
I catch it from the corner of my eye.
His hand lifts.
For a split second, I think—
He’s going to lift the veil.
Panic claws up my throat.
But instead, his fingers brush against mine.
Cold.
Firm.
Intentional.
I flinch.
It’s small—barely noticeable—but I feel it.
And I know he does too.
His grip tightens just a fraction.
A warning?
Or… acknowledgment?
My heart pounds louder.
The priest continues, asking questions I barely process, until—
“Do you, Alexander Vandercrest, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Silence.
A pause.
Too long.
My stomach drops. Is he hesitating? Does he know?
Then—
“I do.”
His voice is low.
Calm.
Certain.
Like there was never a doubt.
Relief crashes into me so suddenly I almost exhale out loud.
But it doesn’t last.
Because now—
It’s my turn.
“And do you, Vivienne Moreau, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
The world tilts.
My tongue feels heavy in my mouth.
Say it.
Just say it.
One word.
That’s all.
I open my lips.
Nothing comes out.
For one horrifying second, silence stretches too long.
Too noticeable.
My grip tightens in his hand.
Then, barely above a whisper—
“I… do.”
The words feel foreign.
Like they don’t belong to me.
Like this entire moment doesn’t.
“Very well,” the priest continues smoothly, as though he didn’t notice. “May we have the rings?”
Vanessa steps forward, placing the rings into the priest’s waiting hand before retreating quickly.
I don’t look at her. I don’t look at anyone. I only feel him.
Alexander takes the ring first.
His fingers brush mine again as he slides it slowly onto my finger.
Deliberate.
Unhurried.
Like he’s paying attention to every reaction I can’t hide.
My breath catches.
Then it’s my turn.
My hands tremble as I take the ring, trying—failing—to steady myself before sliding it onto his finger.
His skin is warm.
Solid.
Real.
This is real.
This is happening.
The priest’s voice rises slightly, carrying across the silent hall.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
My chest tightens.
This is it.
It’s done.
“You may now—”
I freeze.
My pulse slams violently in my ears.
“—kiss the bride.”
- Writer
