11 | wedding of no dreams

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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.

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