Chapter 3 :-Vows and Veils (And Very Bad Decisions)
503 Words
"Smile like you love him."
That’s what the PR manager whispered right before I stepped onto the white marble aisle…
And so I did.
I smiled like a liar.
I always thought I’d cry on my wedding day.
But not like this.
Not from the sheer absurdity of wearing a designer gown that probably cost more than my entire student debt… to marry a man who once called me forgettable with his whole chest.
There were flashes from every angle—paparazzi, social media influencers, even some business reporters. Jungkook had arranged the perfect narrative: two high-level professionals caught in a whirlwind corporate romance.
What they didn’t know?
We could barely stand being in the same room.
30 Minutes Before the Ceremony – Bridal Suite
“Your makeup artist asked if you’re going for the ‘crying in a bathroom stall’ aesthetic,” Mina said, watching me pace in my heels.
“I feel like I’m entering a hostage situation in tulle.”
She snorted, then pulled me into a hug. “You’re doing this for your family. This is your way out.”
I nodded, swallowing the panic rising in my throat. "Yeah. It’s a contract. Just business."
Then the door opened.
“Five minutes,” said a coordinator. “Mr. Jeon is ready.”
Of course he is.
The Ceremony – Main Hall
He stood at the end of the aisle like a scene out of a painfully expensive k-drama.
Jeon Jungkook.
Sharp jaw. Black tailored suit. Expression like he was bored of being beautiful.
I walked toward him in silence.
Each step felt heavier.
Each camera click louder.
He didn’t smile.
But when I got close, he leaned in and whispered—
“You clean up better than I expected.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Still waiting for the part where you get hit by a flower vase.”
His lips twitched. Barely. Almost like a smile, but not quite.
Then the officiant began.
It was short. Cold. Clinical.
But when they asked for vows, Jungkook took my hand.
His palm was warm.
Too warm.
And he spoke.
“This marriage may be written in ink, but I will uphold it as if it were written in stone. I vow to honor the terms we agreed. And pretend, to the world, that we are madly in love.”
My breath hitched.
Not from his words. From the way he said them.
Like a dare.
The First Kiss (for the cameras)
We turned to face each other.
The world around us blurred—just a sea of eyes watching.
“This wasn’t in the contract,” I whispered, panic rising.
“It’s tradition,” he murmured. “Smile for the show.”
And before I could protest—
His lips brushed mine.
Soft. Barely there. But devastatingly real.
It didn’t last long.
It didn’t need to.
Because the second he pulled away and turned back to the crowd, I was frozen.
And my heart?
It shouldn’t have fluttered like that.
- Writer
