7. The Fake Bride, Fake Vows

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Revised.

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Marriage is an ultimatum for the two people who love each other. That was my idea about marriage. I had never thought about marriage or becoming a wife of someone. It's because I was too young to imagine a married life of my own.

As soon as I came out of the car, lights of cameras started flashing on my face, teasing my eyes. My bare arms trembled every time someone clicked my picture. A group of reporters encircled me and Samara's father. Some young girls came forward and helped me straightening my dress. They spread my long dress behind me on the ground.

"Congratulations, Sam. You finally made it." One of the girls whispered in my ear, making my blood run cold.

The other one giggled, "Your dress is beautiful." My heart leaped into my throat as I observed my surrounding.

Sun was almost setting. The sky was showing orangish-red hues so the brightness of the lanterns and other fancy lights was increasing slowly. Many posh cars were parked around the area – the kind of cars I had only seen on Google images. Reporters around me were congratulating me and wishing me a good married life. There were other people as well who were not reporters, but might be Samara's acquaintances. They were smiling and waving their hands at me.

Since my face was hidden, I didn't have to worry about my facial expressions or concealing my frightened state. No one could see my pale, white face. One of the girls who helped me with my dress once again appeared before me and offered me the bouquet of white tulips. With shaky hands, I accepted it.

Samara's father, who was standing beside me, touched my arm, "Let's go." He by himself linked my arm with his and slightly pulled me to walk forward. I let him used his strength because I could not walk on my own. My legs were numb.

The moment I stepped into the Church, the crowd stood up from their chairs at once and applauded aloud for me. I started getting sweaty as fear spiked my insides, giving me a strong heartache that made it difficult for me to breath. And the veil on my face further suffocated me.

The happy faces of the people saddened me a little because I was deceiving them. I was a fake bride. Everything was so whimsical, so dreamy, so beautiful around me, but the bride behind the veil was fake. She was fooling everyone. She was ruining the whole wedding.

I moved my eyes around and observed the Church decorations. The wedding venue was adorned in a way to make it resemble to a kind of royal wedding. The bright, fancy lights, crystal, sparkling chandeliers, fresh roses, baby blue curtains were bewitching the whole place. I was mesmerized. If I wouldn't be surrounded by the anxiety, I would've said awe. But right now, all of these things were crumpling my heart apart.

I felt a pull on the bouquet I was holding that brought me out of my thoughts. A strange woman smiled at me and took away the flowers. I realized that I'd already crossed the altar and now facing the huge crowd. Samara's father also left my side.

Moving around, I looked up at the man who was standing few steps away from me, smiling at me. My brows shot up and my stomach clenched the moment I recognized him who was maybe Samara's groom. That face stole my remaining strength.

I had seen him before. The blueberry eyes, the same perfume scent, the same face I still remembered very clearly. He was the same man who spilled his drink on my blouse. What kind of prank my fate was pulling with me?

Overcame with fright and shock at the same time, my legs trembled. I lost my balance. My butt was about to smack with the floor when that man quickly stepped forward to me, grabbed my arm and pulled me up. I stood straight again. Worry flared on his face.

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