Chapter 1 – Wedding
1984 Words
Hiraya’s POV
The church was breathtaking, almost unreal. White lilies lined the aisle, soft golden ribbons shimmered under the chandeliers, and a choir’s gentle voices floated through the air, singing hymns about love she didn’t feel.
Hiraya adjusted her veil with trembling hands. Her gown flowed behind her like a river of silk, and the lace on her sleeves scratched lightly against her skin, reminding her that beauty could sometimes be a trap.
Her mother appeared beside her, radiant in pride. “Hiraya, ikaw na ang pinaka-magandang bride. Look at Ethan—he’s waiting for you, kaya ‘wag kang matakot.”
Hiraya forced a smile. Matakot? Oo, but for the wrong reason. She swallowed, trying to steady the storm in her chest. This isn’t love. Hindi ito choice ko. Hindi ito choice niya.
Guests whispered as she began walking down the aisle. “Ang ganda niya…”
“Parang fairytale!”
Hiraya’s lips curved into a small smile, but inside, every step felt like chains tightening around her ankles.
And then she saw him. Ethan.
Tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly dressed, jaw strong like stone. His hair was slicked back neatly, but his eyes… his eyes were cold, detached, a distance she could feel even from meters away.
He doesn’t care, she realized. He doesn’t even see me.
Still, a foolish hope whispered in her chest. Maybe… maybe it will be different once we say the vows. Maybe…
She tried to straighten her shoulders and ignore the pounding of her heart.
The priest’s voice boomed, “Do you, Hiraya, take Ethan to be your lawfully wedded husband…?”
Her throat constricted. She whispered, “I do.”
Ethan’s turn came. His voice was steady, precise, and utterly cold. “I do.”
Her heart sank. She had been hoping, foolishly, that there would be warmth there. A flicker. A sign, But there was nothing.
Then came the priest’s words: “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Ethan leaned forward and pretended to kiss her. She swallowed, a lump in her throat, as he whispered so low that only she could hear:
“You will live in hell.”and he smirks
The words give shivers
She forced a smile for the cameras, for the guests, for her family. Smile, Hiraya kahit nanginginig Ka SA kaba.
---
Ethan’s POV
He hated every second. Every flower, every note of the choir, every whisper of admiration. This was never about love. This was a deal, a contract, a marriage forced upon him by family obligations he couldn’t escape.
She's so fragile, And that was the problem — fragile. Fragile enough to hope. Fragile enough to think this wedding could be anything but chains.
He kept his expression for the guests. Dutiful, Cold...
When he said “I do”, he made sure his voice was flat, precise. No warmth. No hesitation. A silent warning that Hiraya would never belong to him, not in heart, not in soul.
And when he brushed his lips against her cheek, he did it with precision — just enough to appear polite, enough to appease the world. He felt the shiver in her shoulder, and for a moment, a bitter satisfaction burned inside him.
She would never fool him, and he would make sure she never fooled herself.
---
HIRAYA POV
After the ceremony, she walked through the sea of guests, offering smiles that felt foreign on her own face. Cameras clicked. Hands were shaken. Compliments were whispered.
“Ang ganda ni Hiraya!”
“Perfect match sila ni Ethan!”
“Ang swerte niya!”
She nodded, smiling, feeling hollow inside. Ethan’s hand rested lightly on her back as they walked. Not holding, not supporting. Just a reminder that he was present. Barely.
Her relatives swarmed her, voices full of praise for Ethan.
“Ang gwapo at ang kisig ni Ethan di Siya nababagay Kay Hiraya...”
“Grabe, Ethan talaga, hindi ka lang basta asawa, perfect talaga sa pamilya namin.”
Maya forced her smile wider, but inside, she wanted to scream. No one saw the tiny tremble in her hands, the way her chest ached from the weight of being ignored by the man who was supposed to be hers.
And then she overheard her cousins whispering near the balcony doors:
“Dapat magpasalamat siya. Sino ba siya kung hindi dahil sa kasal na ‘to? Walang-wala siya.”
“Oo nga. Without Ethan, she’s nothing.”
Her chest tightened. Her own family — the people who were supposed to protect her — didn’t see her as loved. Only as a lucky accessory to Ethan’s name.
When she returned to the main hall, Ethan was laughing, glass of champagne in hand. But when their eyes met, his was cold, distant, a silent reminder: I am not yours. I will never be yours.
The rest of the night, Maya smiled until her jaw ached, her heart screaming silently.
Hiraya’s POV
The reception hall glittered like a palace. Chandeliers shimmered above, reflecting light on the polished floor, where elegantly dressed guests moved gracefully, laughing, clinking glasses, celebrating a union that felt like a cage.
Hiraya walked through it all, forcing smiles at everyone. Her heart felt like it had shrunk to the size of a pebble. Every compliment, every whispered praise, every toast made her feel smaller.
Her relatives surrounded her, gushing over Ethan.
“Ang swerte mo, Hiraya. Ethan was a good man, hindi lang siya gwapo, perfect pa sa pamilya namin!”
Hiraya’s lips curved faintly into a smile. Inside, she wanted to curl into a corner and cry. She wanted someone — anyone — to see that she was suffocating. That she was nothing to him, nothing to the people around her, nothing at all.
Her cousins leaned close, speaking just loud enough for her to hear.
“Honestly, sino ba siya kung hindi dahil sa kasal na ito? Walang-wala siya.”
“Oo nga. Without Ethan, she’s nothing. Lucky lang talaga.”
The words struck her harder than she expected. She glanced around, hoping someone might intervene, might defend her. But everyone else laughed, congratulated her, ignored the sting of the words.
Even her parents seemed to care more about Ethan’s reputation than her feelings.
“Hiraya, huwag kang mag-react. Ito ang magandang buhay na binigay sa’yo ni Ethan,” her mother whispered, adjusting her hair.
“Swerte ka. Alalahanin mo, iba ka sa ibang babae.”
Hiraya wanted to scream. Iba ako? Different from what? I’m just… me, but he doesn’t want me! But she swallowed the words. She couldn’t fight them, not here, not now.
---
Ethan’s POV
Ethan observed all of this with the practiced calm of a man who had done this many times before.
He smiled at the guests, shook hands, laughed at jokes. Everything in him was perfectly measured. Yet internally, he felt nothing. Not joy, not pride, not even irritation. Hiraya, standing beside him in her dazzling gown, didn’t belong to him. She was a requirement, a duty, a placeholder.
When she smiled at the guests, trying to appear happy, he barely noticed. Her happiness was irrelevant. Her presence was a necessity.
He caught the way her cousins whispered, saw the way her shoulders stiffened. Part of him should have felt sympathy. But he didn’t. He thought, Good. Let her feel small. Let her understand her place.
Later, as they moved to the center of the hall for the first dance, Ethan placed a hand lightly on her back. Not holding her. Not guiding her. Just a reminder: I am here, but not for you.
Hiraya’s hands trembled as they moved together. She tried to match the rhythm, tried to feel the magic others claimed was in this moment. But he was distant, a phantom holding her in place.
He leaned slightly, whispering, “Don’t think for a second that this matters, Hiraya. This is show, nothing else.”
Her chest tightened, but no one could hear her gasp.
---
Hiraya’s POV
The night went on like that — laughter and congratulations all around, while she floated through it, untethered. Every “Ang ganda ni Hiraya!” and “Perfect sila ni Ethan!” cut deeper than any insult could. She smiled for the cameras, her heart screaming inside.
She tried speaking to Ethan in small moments, hoping for a glimpse of kindness.
“Ethan, kumusta ka?” she asked gently.
He gave her a brief nod, almost like a stranger acknowledging a passing acquaintance. “I’m fine. You should focus on looking perfect, Hiraya.”
She swallowed, the sting of humiliation burning. He wasn’t even polite. He didn’t touch her in a way that felt genuine. He existed in this room as a man everyone adored, while she existed as a ghost beside him.
Her thoughts drifted to the whispers she had overheard earlier. Even her own family seemed to see her as disposable. Not a wife, not a partner, just a name attached to Ethan’s wealth and status.
Maya excused herself briefly, walking to the terrace for air. She leaned against the cool railing, trying to calm the tremor in her hands. The night sky stretched endlessly, indifferent to her suffering.
Why does everyone celebrate this? she thought. Why am I the one who feels like a prisoner?
No one came to console her. Not a cousin, not a friend, not Ethan. She felt the truth settle like ice in her veins: she was utterly alone.
---
Ethan’s POV
He watched her from the doorway, her figure small against the sprawling terrace. For a brief moment, he wondered if she realized how easily she had been swallowed by the world she thought was hers.
Good, he thought. Let her understand. Let her feel the truth before the illusions take root.
He turned back to the guests, to the laughter and the clinking glasses. The perfect husband, smiling, charming, untouchable. But inside, he was already plotting his life beyond her. He had no love for Hiraya, no desire to bind himself emotionally. She was merely a title, a requirement, a line in the contract of his life.
And he would remind her of that, every chance he got.
By the end of the reception, Hiraya felt the weight of everyone’s expectations, judgments, and indifference crushing her. Every smile, every toast, every whispered word reminded her: she had no ally here.
Her family saw Ethan as a blessing. Her friends thought she was lucky. Even the man she married treated her like she didn’t exist.
And the worst part? She still loved him, still hoped he might see her someday.
That hope, fragile and foolish, was already slipping through her fingers.
Hiraya’s POV
The suite was quiet, too quiet. The soft hum of the air conditioner. The bed loomed large, covered in pristine white sheets that felt sterile, unfamiliar.
Hiraya entered hesitantly, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor. She had imagined this night countless times, each version filled with warmth, tenderness, maybe even a flicker of affection from Ethan. But reality hit her like ice water.
He was already there, leaning back in a chair, sipping whiskey. The firelight flickered across his face, sharp shadows highlighting his cold, perfect features.
“Ethan…” she began, voice trembling.
He didn’t look up. Not once. “Huwag kang umasa, Hiraya. This is just an arrangement. Don’t cross the boundaries.”
Her chest tightened. Boundaries? We’re married! Isn’t this supposed to be… She couldn’t even finish the thought.
“Pero… we’re husband and wife now,” she whispered, trying to thread hope into her words.
He finally met her eyes, and the look he gave her was a blade cutting through her soul. “Don’t mistake this ring for love. Ikaw lang ang pumalit sa kalayaan ko. Wala kang halaga sa akin, Hiraya.”
- Writer
