His second sin

New beginning

Chapter4__

Violet

It's my wedding day. Standing in front of the mirror now, I barely recognize the woman staring back at me. The white silk lace dress, drapes perfectly with a hint of cleavage against my skin, delicate and elegant that it looks almost so perfect, as if I've stepped into someone else's dream.

Yes, I chose this path. This has been my mantra for the past few weeks. But somewhere beneath the excitement, there's a quiet ache of uncertainty, whispering questions I am too afraid to answer. Yet, I am willing to take the chance to give this love, or whatever it might become, a chance to grow.

My fingers trace the edge of the veil, trembling slightly. Is it worth the chance? I silently muttered to myself. Nerves and hope collide inside me, creating a storm I can't name. Oh no, it does have a name, storm called Darien Lockwood. Ryan's word hit me "stick by your principle", so this is me sticking by my principle. Despite all these battles going on in my mind, I find myself smiling. Because today, for better or worse, my story begins.

A soft knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. "It's time," someone says gently from the other side. When I step out, my grandfather is waiting by the doorway, dressed in his best suit. I have to say, despite his age, he looks like he has not aged since his fifty. His eyes glistened as he looked at me and there I saw a raw emotion on his face for the first time. "You look beautiful, just like your grandmother." I heard him say.

I can hear the soft melody of the piano swells standing behind the door. And as soon as the door opened, a hush falls over the room. I glance at my grandfather, his grip steady like he's trying to calm me. With each step my heart races, each stride heavy with hope and fear of what comes next. My eyes searched the crowd and found Ryan immediately looking all handsome. He raised his drinks at me like a silent toast.

I take a deep breath before looking at the end of the aisle. The crowd fades and the music softens as my eyes finally catch his, dressed in a black suit that looks almost too good on him. Like some sort of fruit yet to be claimed. His eyes so cold and intense that I could feel the intensity even from this distance yet, there's a flicker of something there, something I can't quite name.

He's there—the man I chose, the man I am still hoping will one day choose me too. When we finally reach the altar, my grandfather gives my hand one last, reassuring squeeze before placing it in his. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down my spine.

Although he's looking at me, there's no smiling, not a frowning, just looking. The ceremony begins, words floating around us that I can hardly hear. When it's time to exchange vows, my hands tremble as I take the ring and slide onto his finger. He does the same, his movements deliberate and careful. And there, at this exact moment, I promise myself—no matter how his story unfolds, I'll walk through it with grace and sincerity.

Now comes the hardest part: "You may now kiss the bride." As soon as these words slipped out of the priest's mouth, my pulse races, echoing in my chest. For a second, neither of us move. The air between us feels heavier, to the point like the world is holding. His eyes search for mine and then he slowly steps closer.

His hand rises, brushing against my cheek with a touch so careful, it does not feel real. We are now standing so close to each other to the point I can smell the fiant hint of his cologne. I tried hard not to take a long breath at that.

And then—the most anticipated kiss.

Soft. Gentle. Brief. It was just a brief that almost felt like a peck. My chest tightened at the disappointment. Does he really not find me attractive enough to kiss? Is he really that uninterested in me? The rest of the ceremony went to me, avoiding eye contact with him and having drinks with Ryan, talking about everything that went down to everything that waits ahead. I am glad that he's here to help me throughout my own wedding.

By the time the reception was over, I was on the verge of dying in those six-inch heels and heavy gown that drained every ounce of my energy. Even the smile that I had given throughout the evening felt like I had been borrowed from someone else. It was that bad.

I feel guilty for pretending like I am having fun at my own wedding, when I just want to leave and have some alone time with my husband. I can feel my cheeks reddened at that word.

After what felt like an eternity, it was time for the bride and groom to leave. The hall now is left with only the faint hums of goodbye. I exchanged my goodbyes with Ryan not before he handed a red package that looked like a present to me. " Wedding gift," he adds with that sneaky smirk. After that, my grandfather hugged me tightly, his arms warm and steady. " I will come see you soon," I whispered, pecking his cheek before we left.

Outside, the night air is cool, carrying the faint scent of rain. The car drive back to the mansion is quiet and awkward, filled with unspoken tension. The city lights blur past the windows, flickering like distant stars. I glanced at him—his face calm, focused outside on the road. What must he be thinking? I dread not saying one word but chose silence.

When the car turned down a long, winding road, the mansion came into view—tall, elegant, like a real mansion. My breath catches. Surely I am not unfamiliar with luxury houses and buildings as I myself have been brought up like one. But this mansion, right before my eyes, looks beautiful and intimidating.

The first thing that caught my attention was this gigantic garden with countless flowers stretched in every direction, their colors blending into a soft, almost magical palette that left me momentarily speechless. A faint smile tugged at my lips. For the first time that evening, I felt a sense of ease, enough to let me breathe. I knew, right at that moment, that this was going to be my favorite spot in the whole house.

Reluctantly, I tore my gaze from the garden. And as I did, I realized he was waiting for me by the front door. I followed him, afraid I might get lost in this big mansion. The interior was as breathtaking with lights, furniture and colors. I couldn't help but take small, careful steps letting my eyes roam over the art and the subtle detail. I have to wake up early tomorrow to take a good look around.

He led the way upstairs without a word and I followed like a lost puppy. When we reached the bedroom, I paused at the doorway, nervous about being alone with him, thinking about what next? "Are you planning on staying in the hallway all night?" I heard him ask for the first time. The irritation clear in his voice. I entered the room without saying anything.

The room was elegant with soft minimal colors, apposite his black soul and heart. A large bed that fits more than two people, soft rugs and heavy curtains hung over the windows, bookshelves with a stack full of books. Although I need a vanity to do my makeup and skincare.

" Get freshen up and change first," he said, with no ounce of care or softness in his voice. Is he like giving me an order? Also, what do I expect from a cold-hearted stoneman? " Are you not going to freshen up?" he looked up sharply, his brows lifting. " What? You want me to join you there? Are you sure? " I blinked, immediately realizing how that sounded. "No, no, not together, I mean." I blurted out my hands flying up in protest.

"I will go first, then you can go later" I said quickly, my voice a little high, a little too eager. Before he could answer, I darted towards the bathroom and shut the door behind him as I leaned back against it, exhaling a breath I hadn't noticed holding. Just great.