WITH YOU- I Never Had A Choice ✔️

CHAPTER THREE

"I do, " I agree and push the ring onto the finger of my husband, Dylan John Walker, as I learned his name while taking vows.

"Dylan John Walker, do you take Olivia Avery Simpson as your lawfully wedded wife?" asks the priest.

"I do, " replies Dylan in his ever so sexy voice finally putting the ring into my finger. And how much ever I try to focus on the people in front of me, my mind seems to go back years and imagine how I wanted to be standing in the same position putting a ring into Marc's finger. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel my eyes start burning with accumulating moisture.

"Now I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." As soon as the words leave the priest's mouth, my heart sinks. My eyes widen slightly but I quickly recover. Dylan looks at me and brings his hands to remove the vail. He leans forward and touches his lips with mine. It's basically a small peck and I am thankful that it's not anything else. But his lips felt good and soft against mine. Quickly pushing it away, I look around at the people who are clapping and congratulating us, ignorant of the conflict going within my body and soul.

Everything that I've ever dreamt to be doing with Marcus beside me. The wedding gown, the church, the guests, everything is the same only Marc isn't. I got everything while he didn't, because of me. And probably that's why in spite of having these, I am far from happy.

A middle-aged lady, I assume Dylan's mother, is coming towards us with a huge grin on her face and a middle-aged aged man, supposedly her husband is at her heels. "Oh my God! You are so beautiful, Olivia. I'm Dylan's mom, Diana," she says as she reaches me and pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around her body. Although I want to correct my name, I don't. I don't go by Olivia. Not because I don't like the name but because Marc liked the name Avery more. Since then I go by Avery.

Seeing her reaction, I know that she hadn't met Julie. We look poles apart so there is no way someone will get confused about it. She is gorgeous blonde while I'm the opposite, really. "Congratulations, darlin', " she says, pulling away. I smile and she softly pats my cheek and then turns her attention towards my husband. How did that happen?

"I'm so proud to see you in your wedding tux, " she says, wiping her eyes. And when I glance at Dylan, I don't miss the glistening of his eyes. The look in his eyes clearly shows how much he adores his mother. And the hatred I had towards my stranger husband reduces a little.

We are later taken to the backyard of the church where the reception is arranged in a tent. It's beautifully decorated and I wouldn't have expected anything else provided that my uncle would do anything for Julie. Somewhere I am angry at Julie for doing this, not only to me but also to her parents. Most of the people are seated and soft music is being played in the background while everyone eats. I keep looking at the food in my plate and fiddle with the fork. My appetite is completely lost. You can't blame me though.

After finally managing to eat half of the steak from my plate, someone announces the dance of the bride and the groom. Unable to control, a groan leaves my lips and when I look up, Dylan is already on his feet, looking down at me with the expression of fake happiness. He holds out his hand for me and helplessly, I take it and get up on my feet.

He leads me to the dancefloor and 'let's stay together' by Al Green starts playing in the background. His hands come to rest on my hips and I keep my hands on his shoulder, swaying with the music. I refuse to think about it but the irony of this song seems to be pushing its way into my head. We are not in love and every other thing in the song contradicts my situation.

I keep my eyes fixed at the ground while dancing. "Olivia, " Dylan whispers near my ears and my head snaps up. "Do you wanna get going?" Our faces are so close that his warm breath is falling on my lips. Our noses are almost touching. He looks godlike from this close.

I look away quickly and whisper back, "yes, if that's okay with you." He nods and leads me back to where our families are standing. We say our goodbyes and Mr and Mrs Walker hug me once more and tell Dylan to take me to dinner at their place after I get settled. I already like both of them but that doesn't do anything to reduce my hatred towards their son, who is now my dear husband.

Dylan leads me to the out of the church and I find a black limo- decorated with flowers- may I add, stands in front of the church gate. I mean really? A limo for just two people? That's ridiculous. However, I climb in.

As Dylan gets in through the other door, I look down at my wedding gown and realize that my promise to myself about being Marc's and only his is now broken. At least in pen and paper.

"Can we stop at the graveyard?" I look at Dylan and ask. He pulls his attention towards me and frowns.

"Why?"

I look down at my interlinked fingers on my lap and stay silent. After a while, I look up to meet his curious gaze. But instead of answering, I keep silent.

When he receives no reply from me, he sighs, "Okay." He instructs the driver, through the small window between us, to pull up at the graveyard around the corner.

When the car stops right across the road from the graveyard, I get down, trying to hold back my tears. Walking up to the flower shop, I get a rose, like I always do and walk in through the huge rusted metal gate. The moment I reach Marc's grave, I fall on my knees, not caring about the white dress and let the tears flow. I keep the rose near the headstone holding the inscription of his favourite novel and his name and other stuff.

There is a small box beside the headstone. It's one from our childhood. I have one too. As we didn't have our own personal mailbox, we made these, decorated them and used to drop letters in each other's boxes. My mailbox stopped getting letters three years ago but I kept filling Marcus in with everything going on in my 'so-called life'.

Digging out the notepad and pen from the box, I write my letter to my best friend.

Dear Marc,

You probably know everything that has happened but still, I am going to say anyway because you know, your Avy girl likes to talk.

I let out a small laugh at the memory of how he used to get irritated due to my neverending bullshit. Wiping off my wet cheeks, I continue writing.

As you know, today was Julie's wedding. Julie ditched her parents and left the church before the marriage. I told you that Julie didn't have a boyfriend and she would have told me about it. I was right, it was actually a business deal. This strange man, who was Julie's fiancee just wanted to get married and is also a very powerful man. Uncle Tom said that he could destroy them if they don't keep up their part of the deal.

I had to get married to him in order to save my family.

As I write down the truth that I was refusing to accept to my own self, I feel the pang of pain and hurt deep inside my heart. My throat clogs and a few more drops of tears spill.

I never wanted to do it and I promise you I would never belong to anyone else but you. I know you are probably mad at me for doing this but I had no choice. You have always been in my heart and always will, no one can change that. Moreover, the only emotion I possess for my lawfully wedded husband is hatred.

While I was standing at the end of the aisle, I couldn't help but imagine you standing on the other side, waiting for me. From now every day on, I'll have to know that I am ought to act as someone's wife whom I don't love. Never will. Because the only man in my heart is you.

With every passing day, I know I am about to meet you. Truly, I can't wait to see you again. Missing you. Love you, always have, always will.

Yours and only yours,
Avy girl.

I tear and fold the wet paper and put it into the box along with the pad and the pen. Sitting there in front of my best friend's grave. Imagining his warm arms around me, comforting me, I breakdown into silent sobs and let out as of the pain as I can. When I gain composure again, I look at the headstone and whisper softly, the biggest truth of my life, "I Love You and Only you, Marcus."