Love me well or Love me not

Chapter 4: Wedding Day

I put the dress Kahina would be wearing as a photo attachment. The dress was the inspiration behind the chapter. Hope you like it :)

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This all felt so foreign to me-this fabric on my skin, the room I was in, Meredith beaming at me with tears of joy threatening to spill out at any given moment. I looked down at the dress I was wearing; it was exquisite.

It was a classically romantic gown with a touch of modernity. It hugged my body in all the right places and was easy to move in. The layers upon layers of tulle made me look and feel airy. The puffy sleeves, floral lace, and pearls gave me an air of elegance and innocence.

It was stunning; I wasn't even slightly surprised. Aurelio had such great taste when it came to women's fashion. Maybe if this whole Mafia thing didn't pan out, he could be a stylist to the stars. What I was surprised by is that he found such a dress in my size, especially one that could contain and support my chest. I had often heard that the haute couture side of the wedding industry tended to overlook anyone beyond a size 10, but here was Aurelio proving what I heard wrong. But then again, it might be because nobody wants to say no to a Mafia boss.

My gaze drifted towards a cabinet on the other side of the room, where a treasure trove of gifts brought by Meredith was neatly stashed away. As the daughter of a diamond magnate and my best friend, Meredith assumed the role of bestowing upon me a new jewelry wardrobe and various luxuries to commemorate my debut into the elite.

To be frank, I think she is just afraid of people shunning me or looking down on me since I don't have access to the same lifestyle or disposable income as them. It's a sweet gesture nonetheless.

Meredith had been a true gem throughout this whole ordeal. I turn to take in her expression; she looks like a proud sister sending off her only sibling. This weird situation makes me want to cry too or run away, but all I do is sit and take pictures with my friends.

The music fills the air, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. My father would call this particular situation the beginning of the end.

Soon I will have to walk down the aisle, hanging on Meredith's arm for dear life. If she wasn't here to witness the fruit of her labor, I truly think I would have run away by now.

But I can't seem to walk away from everything she introduced me to. She wouldn't mind, I think. Meredith has always drilled into me that I should do what I want and that she would back me up. That's what chosen families are for, she said. Such blind loyalty for the woman that has been feeding her only half truths.

I hear someone announce that the bride is going to make her entrance, and it's my cue to get up. I walk down the aisle with shaky legs, under the curious eyes of a dozen or so people I don't know.

When I arrive next to Aurelio, I take a minute to breathe deeply and steady myself. My hand could easily reach over to him, and I could draw some strength from his warmth and power, but I stop myself from doing so. If I start relying on him now, who knows where that will lead? The mere notion that I was tempted to do it makes me want to kick myself; there is no need for such weakness so early on in our relationship.

We exchange I do's and vows that are as empty as my bank account before payday. With the ceremony now over, we head down to meet our guests.

Aurelio's parents are warm and friendly; they gush and fuss over me, which makes me feel like an animal headed for slaughter.

The only other person who seems to be in the same mood as me is Leonardo, Aurelio's son. He looks glum and bored. I envy the freedom he has to wear his emotions on his face. I'm stuck having to perform; I feel like a clown in a circus. But the only person to blame is myself; this is a prison I walked into with my own two feet.

In all the hysterics and theatrics at this wedding, he and I seem like the only sane ones.

I don't know how to approach the boy; I don't wish to disturb his peace or invade his space. He doesn't seem too eager to meet me either, so I wait for an occasion for our paths to cross naturally.

It finally presents itself at the cake cutting; the expression he bore earlier has all but disappeared, and a soft smile now adorns his lips. His gray eyes seem to penetrate deep into my soul as he graciously thanks me for the slice. When he speaks to me, he doesn't beat around the bush. "It must be exhausting to pretend like that. If you sit with me a little, you can take a break; I don't care either way."

His offer is tempting; he must have picked up his bluntness from his father. I excuse myself from the other guests and leave to join Leonardo in the corner. Before turning around and going my way, I see a warm smile on Aurelio's face, the first I've ever witnessed. The smile of a father overjoyed for his son to finally have a mother.

For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to reminisce about my parents' smiles, a memory that was equal parts comforting and bittersweet. But I swiftly push it away and plop down next to Leonardo to eat cake.

The cake is buttery and delicious, fortunately it has no fondant. Fondant truly is an invention of the devil. The ganache is fruity; it coats the mouth properly. This cake suits my taste very much. I wonder if me and Aurelio have similar tastes or if he collected information about me to aid him in planning the wedding.

Me and the boy eat in comfortable silence, and I can finally breathe easy, despite the makeup and the dress still making me feel unnatural and untrue to myself. It feels like the weight of my responsibilities has finally been lifted off my shoulders. Good company and all that.

This feels like too brief a reprieve for the task that still awaits me. Mingling with the guests during the reception, making a good impression, and slowly getting to know Aurelio's family It really isn't my scene, so I have to make great efforts to achieve the desired effects, which tires me out.

Whoever says weddings are fun in front of me, I swear I'm going to punch in the mouth.

By the end of the whole charade, I'm ready to rip the dress off of me. Or, more like, gently take it off as fast as possible, because despite how bothersome it feels, it's still very pretty, and I've always liked pretty things.

We go back to his house in silence, or perhaps the place I should start calling home. Even the thought of that is chilling. I know in my heart that, short of a miracle, that place could never be my home.

They say home is where the heart is; then wouldn't home be Davao? Or Moscow? Probably both; in Davao, a part of my heart is buried; in Moscow, the other part is forever hiding.

In the bedroom, he helps undress me before going to the bathroom. I breathe a sigh of relief; at last, I'm finally alone. If people knew that I was a creature of solitude, they might wonder why I would put myself through all of this and for what.

In truth, I don't even know myself. Was it to prove wrong those words that shattered my fantasy as a young girl, those words uttered by my father? Was I a masochist who enjoyed putting herself in uncomfortable and volatile situations? Or was it something else?

I truly had no idea, and now was not the time to start asking these questions. After all, we were way past that point.

I don't know what Aurelio intended for our wedding night, but if it was anything other than restful sleep, he would be sorely disappointed.

I gently touch the bed; it's soft, like my mother's touch. I'm trying to wait for him before going to sleep. It's always good to regroup, share our thoughts about the wedding, and exchange feedback.

I'm not sure if something is wrong with my perception of time as I'm impatient to sleep or if Aurelio is a bathroom hog, but the wait seems interminable.

I'm sitting in a chair beside the bed, and I fear that if the smallest part of my body touches that mattress, I'll give in to my body screaming for sleep.

After hearing the shower running, I know he won't be back anytime soon, so I slide into bed. It makes me feel so comfortable that I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.