Chapter 10
479 Words
Chapter 10: The Vows We Never Chose
The morning sun filtered gently through the silk curtains of the bridal suite. Shanaya sat still, her reflection like a porcelain doll in the full-length mirror. The A-line lace wedding gown fit her like it was made just for her—elegant, timeless, and hauntingly beautiful. Her long dark hair had been curled into soft waves and pinned delicately with crystals. Her makeup was flawless, but her eyes were hollow.
She looked like the perfect bride.
But her heart felt nothing but dread.
“I’m ready,” she whispered to herself, her hands trembling. “I’ll accept my fate.”
Christian stood in front of a gilded mirror in his private chamber. His black tuxedo was custom-tailored, his cufflinks sparkling with diamonds. He straightened his tie, smirking to himself.
“Finally,” he muttered, “she’ll be mine.”
The wedding venue was a grand estate garden, blooming with ivory roses and candlelit chandeliers suspended from arching trees. A string quartet played soft melodies as hundreds of guests filled the seats, whispering and taking pictures.
But then—silence.
The groom was missing.
The priest shifted awkwardly. The guests looked around, murmurs rising.
“Where is Christian?”
“He was so eager to marry…”
“Did he change his mind?”
Time ticked on.
Christian’s mother clutched her pearls in panic. “This is humiliating,” she whispered. “He’s disgraced our name.”
Her husband’s face darkened. “Do something.”
In a moment of desperation, she turned to Lorenzo—who had just arrived, unaware of the chaos.
“You have to marry her,” she said urgently.
Lorenzo’s eyes widened. “What?”
“She’s standing at the altar, waiting. We can’t let this become a scandal. Please—save our family’s name. You’re the only one who can.”
Shanaya stood behind the doors, her arm linked with her uncle’s. She hadn’t seen Christian—but she assumed he was waiting ahead. She took a shaky breath as the music swelled, and the doors opened.
Every eye turned toward her.
She walked slowly down the aisle, her expression calm, though her heart pounded violently in her chest. The priest stood waiting.
And beside him—not Christian.
Lorenzo.
She stopped mid-step, her breath stolen.
What was he doing there?
The whisper of the crowd grew louder, but Shanaya couldn’t hear them. Only the sound of her racing heart.
Her uncle leaned in. “Keep walking,” he whispered softly. “Everything will be okay.”
With legs that felt like stone, she made her way to Lorenzo.
He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
The priest asked them to join hands.
They did.
Her fingers trembled inside his.
Neither spoke. Neither smiled. But both said "I do."
Bound not by love—but by silence, sacrifice, and secrets.
- Writer
