𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 | ✓

45

Three days rush by in a blur of hectic chaos.

Amanda is a pain in the ass. Savannah has tried her best to have the wedding planner in check to keep things moving on smoothly. Everything is going on according to Amanda's and William's wishes.

The only times I actually get breaks are at nights, while heading to bed, and the nearly nine hours' long flight from New York to Ravello, Italy, my wedding destination.

Because anywhere except the Belmond hotel Caruso in Ravello, Italy, was not prestigious enough for William and Amanda Wright's only son, Kristian's wedding.

The hotel was a palace, apparently built back in the 11th century, and is nestled on a cliff overlooking the Amalfi coast. Quaint gardens and an old church surround the castle.

The Duomo of Ravello—a 900-year-old church—is where the wedding ceremony will take place. The entire setup is fit for a princess.

I'm supposed to feel special, but I feel especially miserable.

Perhaps it is a very princess-like situation. I'm getting married to someone I don't want and can't afford to get out of the deal.

The suits of the hotel are Neapolitan-style, with long ceiling to floor windows opening to huge balconies and overlooking the shore. Though one side of my spacious room, where the blue antique loveseat and armchair are placed, is overflowing with dresses, accessories, and everything imaginable, I still like it. At least it offers momentary peace while hiding inside its walls.

It takes us the entire first day to settle in and look around the place. The wedding planner and her crew arrive and immediately get to work.

The following day, the guests start arriving. Receiving them, and carrying on small talks, ensuring each and everyone one of them is happy and satisfied is no easy task. Especially since Amanda went overboard and invited almost 500 people.

I have no idea how she has managed to find that many people to drag over here.

One of the reasons why the wedding's cost is turning into a whopping two million dollars.

Money and glamour used to make me happy. This life, is what I was born into and I enjoyed every damn second of it, taking full advantage of its every privilege.

However, for the first time, this two million dollar bill is resting on my chest like a damn stone weighing over a ton, crushing me underneath it.

The exquisite grandeur is not bringing me joy, and it's not making me feel special, nor am I enjoying my time. I simply feel suffocated.

Late at night, when I'm alone in the safety of my room, enjoying the view of the clear night sky, my mind recalls the good times I had with Spencer. How even though I was broke, everything seemed perfect with him. Somehow, everything appeared great, even things as small as sitting on the floor of his study and working on that solution, or grabbing a bite from my favorite pastry shop.

For my entire life, I'd been convinced people are wrong about money when they claim the more money you have, the more miserable you become.

For the first time, I'm starting to see, it's not about the money, the luxury, and the glory. No, it's about the people I'm with.

Just like no amount of money can ever bring back the safety and security I felt when Dad used to promise he'll fix the problem I had gotten into.

Nothing's like spending a weekend at Mom's place. Or chilling with the people I like.

Sure, being able to buy whatever the hell I want without worrying about the price tag, living in mansions, and having the latest, fastest car are all great... but fleeting.