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C L A I R E
The white wedding gown is beautiful. It has a deep V-neck, classy but not slutty, that enhances my figure; a full-sleeved design with lavish detailing and a lot of volume underneath. It reaches below my feet and drags over the floor when I stand. Overall, it is expensive and stunning.
I didn't choose the gown. I didn't choose anything because I couldn't accept that I was indeed getting married in a week. I spent my days in my room, missing college and crying all the time. Mom did all my shopping for me and she is the one who dressed me today along with a few of her makeup artists.
My hair is tied up in a beautiful updo and accentuates my heart-shaped face. There is a diamond necklace on my neck that sits between my collarbones, shining bright when the light falls on it.
I feel nervous as I sit in front of the mirror. It will be a small ceremony, with no media as a request for privacy, but the wedding will be mentioned in tomorrow's papers. Vaughn said he had no control over that. The guest list consists of mostly family and friends. I am expected to be smiling constantly because I am getting married to the 'love of my life' but my anxiety is making it difficult.
"Mija, you look so beautiful," Mom says as she rubs a tear from the corner of her eye and sets the veil over my head.
She is wearing a beautiful scarlet color gown which is studded with pearls around the neckline. She has opted for minimal make-up today and looks quite her age but as proper as always.
I can only manage a stare at her blankly in return, my mind occupied in horrifying thoughts. She moves in front of me and sits on the dressing table, trailing her fingers through the strands of my hair that have been left out to frame my face.
"It seems like only yesterday I had you in my arms. You were the prettiest baby," Mom gushes, and I rub my sweaty palms on my dress. "Are you happy, love?"
Am I happy? I don't even know what happiness means anymore. Is it possible to feel this depressed even though you have everything in your life sorted out? Surely, no one expects me to be sad — I am the daughter of Michael Hill and soon to be the wife of Vaughn Jackson — I should be considered the luckiest woman.
Then why don't I feel that way?
"Mom..." I grab her hand which touches my cheek and look at her.
"What happened, baby?" she asks, her expression dropping to that of concern all of a sudden.
"Mom...Mom...I..." I can't find the right words.
An urge to tell her to stop the wedding catches me. I want to tell her that this is just a drama for six months but I am not able to.
"Yes, honey? Tell me, sweetheart." Mom cups my face between her palms, trying to soothe me.
God! I want to cry. My chest feels so heavy with the question of what comes next. I want to run away. Why did I do this? Why am I binding myself to someone I don't love?
I always dreamed of my marriage to be with a man I would love. I dreamed of being happy on my wedding day, smiling because I was about to marry my one true love. It may all sound very cliché but it wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to have my dream-like proposal under the stars and I was supposed to be ecstatic about getting married.
"Mom, I'm..." I begin but then I remember the look she had on her face when she saw me in my wedding dress a few hours ago.
She started to cry.
I can't do this to her. She spent hours perfecting everything, making sure nothing falls short. Even after all the fiasco surrounding the wedding, she took everything on her shoulders, carrying the load which was supposed to be mine.
How can I do this to her?
"Honey, are you okay? Do you not feel well?"
"I'm..." I close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to calm myself down before I look at her again. "I'm fine, Mom." I let out a short laugh as I nod, keeping the tears in. "I'm happy."
She releases an audible sigh and presses her lips to my forehead, kissing me softly. She pulls me to her chest and I hug her like she is the one thing I need the most.
I am sorry, Mom. I am so sorry.
***
The walk down the aisle is full of trepidation, anticipation, and doubts. Dad's grip around my elbow is tight as if he is afraid that I might still choose to run away. He hasn't spoken a word to me today and it hurts me to see him this devoid of feelings even when he is walking his daughter down the aisle. But I keep the pain hidden in my heart.
The wedding is taking place in a vineyard and the place looks jaw-dropping. The entire venue is decorated with white daisies around every corner and rose petals fill the path to the altar.
I watch the guests through my veil as they stare at me, some in surprise, some in awe. Nina and Jesse, my bridesmaids, nod at me approvingly from up the altar. I feel more and more self-conscious as I walk towards the altar with Dad and as we reach closer, my eyes fall on Vaughn who waits for me.
Unlike me, he looks completely unfazed and devastatingly gorgeous in his dark three-piece suit custom-made for him. His hair is slicked back neatly and his beard has been trimmed to a clean-cut look that decorates his strong jaw. He looks exactly like I imagined him when I used to dream of our marriage back when I was a teenager.
When I reach the altar and stand opposite him, he gives me a faint smile.
The priest begins the procession with a clearing of his throat. "Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Their decision to marry has not been entered into lightly and today they publicly declare their private devotion to each other...."
What is he even talking about? The only thing I remember doing with Vaughn in private is wanting to gouge his eyeballs out of their sockets.
"Marriage, ideally, is a sharing of responsibilities, hopes, and dreams." the priest continues and with each word, I feel myself shaking. "It takes a special effort to grow together, survive hard times, and be loving and unselfish. Do you both pledge to share your lives openly with one another, and to speak the truth in love? Do you promise to honor and tenderly care for one another, cherish and encourage each other, stand together, through sorrows and joys, hardships and triumphs for all the days of your lives?"
"I do," Vaughn answers instantly and it makes me gape at him.
This man has mastered the art of deceit so well that it has become a natural part of his personality.
"Miss?" The priest turns to me when I don't answer.
No time to run, Claire. You have ruined yourself. Might as well complete the ruination.
"I do," I answer, my eyes never leaving Vaughn's.
The time for exchanging rings comes and I am surprised to find David bringing them forth. I couldn't have guessed that Vaughn and David were this close to each other.
"May these rings be blessed as a symbol of your union. As often as either of you look upon these rings, may you not only be reminded of this moment but also of the vows you have made and the strength of your commitment to each other."
Vaughn takes the ring and ushers me to give my hand. I do so reluctantly, the hand feeling like a detached part of my body, as he makes me wear the diamond ring. It is going to be the thing that marks me for six months without my choice and yet, I do like the look of it as it twinkles. David hands me the other ring and I place it on Vaughn's finger as quickly as possible.
"Claire, now repeat after me — I Claire, promise to love and support you, Vaughn, and live each day with kindness, understanding, truth, honor, and passion. With this ring, I wed thee."
I repeat as ordered with bile in my throat and Vaughn does the same with a stern voice like he is taking the pledge for Boys' Scout.
"Because you have now consented to this holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and his company, and have given and pledged your loyalties to one another, and have evidenced this by giving and receiving of rings and joining hands, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest declares.
The congregation erupts in claps after the priest ends the ceremony with his final words. "You may now kiss the bride."