His Hidden Wife (A Justin Bieber Story)

Ending Chapter (Part 1)

Part 1

W.O.W: "If someone came up to you and handed you a book and you started reading it and realized it was a book about your entire life would you read it until the end?" - Anon

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Andrea's POV 👼

I remember when I was a little girl, such kid filled with pure innocence and curiosity, asking her father why she did not have a mother. It was always a question of where... where was the queen of this princess? Where was the maternal tenderness other kids have that I don't?

I was jealous. Jealous of all the kids who have their mothers by their side. Was I such a bad little girl that the Heavens decided that I should not have one?

Dad would always give me an answer along with the lines of fairytale - like and fantasyland. It would give me comfort as I was used to it but then, the unevitable time came that I couldn't anymore.

The truth would always hurt, I learned hard. No matter how you want to protect someone's wound, for it to heal fast, isn't it better to feel the pain of the meds as soon as possible? That it's better to know that it'll hurt because really though, it will, it always will than trying to prolong the agony? Lies? You don't protect someone from it, you're just trying to deepen the wound. And that's what hurts the most.

Knowing my mom died, my five year old self could not take it. When all along dad would tell me that she was just somewhere far. Somewhere far. Huh. That's the only answer I could give when my classmates would ask me where my mom was. Of course, I'd believe my dad. He's my father, isn't he? He's my protector. But then, that was the sole reason why I hated him back then.

If he's my dad, how could he lie to me? How could he not tell me? How... how could he?

It was all spiral events of my childhood years. Of course, I could not get mad at him for too long. He's my father right? How could I get too mad to the person who just wanted to protect me? To the only family I have? To the man whom I always see strong but cried when I yelled I hated him? How could I even right?

Dad. He's always just there. Always trying to look out for me. He might made decisions some people didn't understand but good people sometimes make bad choices right?

"How's my favorite daughter?" My father's baritone voice echoed that I turned around to face him.

"Dad." Smiling, I greeted him with a warm embrace. "And I am your only daughter." I reminded him.

"Then how's the birthday girl and bride coping up?" His set of pearly white teeth was put in display. I chuckled as I pulled away.

"Nervous." I answered truthfully. "But the dark tux brings out your grey eyes." Teasing, I fixed his tie in the process.

"Ah. The good genes runs in the family huh?" I laughed. He then gazed at me for a moment, just taking in my face and sighed. "Make up huh? Teens wear them now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dad. You shouldn't let Michaela hear you." I said, initiating about my head make up team that Aruella brought from Paris. "And it's my wedding day dad, of course I'm gonna wear make up."

"You'd still look beautiful with and without it."

"You are only saying that because I'm your daughter." I taunt. He just smiled in return.

"Not quite. I'm saying it because it's true." He continued, glancing at the spacious room.

With a small smile, I watched the bride to be all in her glory in the mirror. Her used to be chapped lips are now covered in a light red color; the pale cheeks tinted into a perfect contour of mixed blush. The bags underneath her droopy eyes were painted into a masterpiece that highlighted the brightness in it. Her mid length wavy hair was tied into a sophisticated bun, small wavy hair fell on either side of her face. A lavander barrette embellished with tiny sparkling diamonds was placed to complete the masterwork --- it was a gift given by Justin's grandmother, Kate. It felt simple, I looked simple. Aside from the colorful mask and the shining jewelry on my hair, I was contented at what I am seeing. The me on my wedding day.