THE LAST GOODBYE

The Wedding Trap The church bells rang like a death sentence. I stood in the small bride's room, staring at myself in the mirror. The white dress felt too tight, like it was suffocating me. My hands shook as I touched the lace on my sleeves. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. So why did I feel like I was walking toward my own funeral? "Rose, sweetheart, you look beautiful." My father appeared behind me, his weathered face glowing with pride. He had worked two jobs for years to pay for this wedding. The guilt sat heavy in my chest. "Dad, I..." The words died in my throat. How could I tell him I was not sure about this? That Jack's touch sometimes felt wrong? That his words often cut deeper than any knife? "Cold feet?" Dad smiled gently. "That is normal. Marriage is a big step." Normal. Everyone kept saying that word. Like the bruise on my arm from last week was normal. Like Jack's angry outbursts were normal. Like the way he controlled what I wore, who I talked to, where I went, was just normal relationship stuff. "Rose!" My best friend Lisa burst through the door, her bridesmaid dress swishing around her. "Oh my God, you are gorgeous! Jack is so lucky." Lucky. Another word people loved to use. I was the lucky one, they said. Jack Morrison was successful, handsome, ambitious. He came from money. He had plans. Big plans. And somehow, he chose me. Plain Rose Bennett, daughter of a construction worker. I should be grateful. "Five minutes," the wedding coordinator called out. My heart hammered against my ribs. This was it. Once I walked down that aisle, there was no turning back. I would be Mrs. Jack Morrison. Forever. The music started. Dad offered his arm. I took it, holding on tight, maybe too tight. We walked through the doors and suddenly everyone was staring at me. Two hundred people I barely knew. Jack's friends. His business associates. His wealthy family who looked at me like I was dirt on their expensive shoes. Then I saw him. Jack stood at the altar in his perfect suit, his dark hair styled perfectly, his blue eyes locked on me. He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. It never did. Not really. That smile was for show, for all these people watching us. I walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. My father kissed my cheek and placed my hand in Jack's. His grip was too tight, possessive, claiming. A warning. The priest began speaking but I barely heard the words. Blood rushed in my ears. Jack's thumb pressed hard against my wrist, right where that bruise was healing. A reminder. He was always reminding me who was in control. "Do you, Rose Marie Bennett, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Everyone waited. The silence stretched too long. Jack's grip tightened, his smile fixed but his eyes flashing with anger. Say yes, those eyes commanded. Say yes or you will regret it. "I..." My voice came out as a whisper. "Speak up, darling," Jack said through his smile, but his tone was ice. I looked at my father in the front row. He had given up everything for me. This wedding cost him so much money. All these people were here. The reception was paid for. I could not humiliate him. I could not embarrass Jack in front of everyone. What would people think? "I do." The words tasted like poison. Relief flooded Jack's face. The priest continued. Then it was Jack's turn. "I do," he said confidently, like he had just won something. Like I was a prize he had claimed. "You may kiss the bride." Jack pulled me close and kissed me hard, too hard, his fingers digging into my arms. It was not romantic. It was a statement. Mine, that kiss said. You are mine now. Everyone clapped and cheered. I forced a smile as we walked back down the aisle together, my arm linked through his. Mrs. Morrison now. Trapped. --- The reception was a blur of fake smiles and champagne I barely touched. Jack kept his hand on my waist the entire time, holding me in place beside him as he talked business with his associates. I was a decoration, something pretty to display. "Your wife is lovely, Morrison," one of his business partners said. "Thank you. She cleans up well, does not she?" Jack laughed like it was a joke. The man laughed too. I said nothing, just smiled like I was supposed to. Lisa found me when Jack finally stepped away to take a phone call. "You okay? You seem off." "Just tired," I lied. "Well, you better rest up. Wedding night and all." She winked and giggled. Wedding night. My stomach turned. I was not ready. I would never be ready. Jack returned, his face dark with anger. He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a quiet corner. His grip hurt but I knew better than to pull away in public. "That was my mother on the phone," he hissed. "She said you barely smiled during the ceremony. You made me look bad, Rose. Do you understand? You embarrassed me in front of everyone." "I am sorry, I just—" "Just what? You just decided to ruin our wedding day?" His voice was low but vicious. "I spent a fortune on this. Your father spent money he does not have. And you could not even pretend to be happy?" "I am happy," I whispered, the lie burning my throat. "You better be. Because you are stuck with me now. For better or worse, remember?" He smiled then, cruel and cold. "Mostly worse for you if you keep disappointing me." He walked away, leaving me standing there with tears burning behind my eyes. I blinked them back. Do not cry. Do not make a scene. Be perfect. Be grateful. Be small. "Rose!" My father appeared, his face concerned. "Are you alright? You look pale." "I am fine, Dad. Just overwhelmed." He studied my face for a long moment, and I saw doubt flicker in his eyes. But then Jack returned, all charm and smiles, putting his arm around me. "Marcus, thank you again for everything. I promise I will take good care of your daughter." Dad nodded slowly, but something in his expression shifted. He looked at Jack differently now, like he was seeing something he had missed before. The party continued around us, but I felt like I was drowning. This was my life now. This was forever. As guests threw rice and cheered, Jack led me to the waiting car. His hand on my lower back felt like a brand burning through my dress. I looked back one last time at my father standing in the church doorway. Our eyes met across the distance. And in that moment, I knew. He knew. We both knew I had just made the biggest mistake of my life. But it was too late now. The car door closed. My prison sentence had begun.