A Marriage of Convenience

I stood at the side of the room, my knees resisting the urge to buckle at the thought I would stand in front of them—of her—in a minute. The beauty. The grace. The bride. The snake. If I was so against this marriage, then why was I standing in front of a woman oozing s*x appeal under the influence of Coco Noir Channel whose stare devours the soul carcasses of the people she passed by, you might ask? Because it wasn’t my choice. Our families were at a truce, and a part of that truce was me being here, witnessing this horrid wedding I was dreading the moment I heard about it a month ago. Elena Alistair knew what she was doing when she asked me to be her bridesmaid. And I can tell you, it wasn’t because of heartfelt endearment. My chest was pounding furiously against my rib cage, threatening to break it open, daring the next person to rip out what was left of it. My palms turned sweaty when Marc Delaney left the front of the room with people gasping for breath at his man of honor speech. Even Liam cracked a smile for the first time tonight. I know what he’s thinking. Funny how I can still read him like a book even after all the s**t that's happened. Just because he stopped loving me doesn’t mean I did. Marc descends the podium, walking out of sight and walks towards me. His eyes softened when our gaze met. “You don’t need to do this, Rei,” he whispered when we were at close proximity. I have a feeling he's more worried about my loose lips rather than the pain that's been aching me the past few days. I ignored him and snatched the microphone from his hand before I could let the nerves get the best of me. His hand swiped across my cheek right before I made my way to the front with my heart on my sleeve. What’s left of it, at least. Suddenly, I felt like running away. Their gazes were too much. Like I was being publicly undressed for everyone to stare at. Not that Ender would have minded. He sat at the very back of the room making kissing faces at me. I try my best to ignore it. I swallow, mustering up the courage to stand my ground for the first time. I’m done running away. It never gave me anything other than a broken pride and a deep ache in the chest. I took a second to scan the crowd. All of the Mannon family members were here. By extension, and cordial agreement, mine was too. I took a deep breath. “I knew Liam not too long ago. Funny story is that my family, who for those of you who don’t know, is the Giovanni dynasty. So, you can guess through what circumstances he and I met under.” I can feel the heat of my father’s gaze across the room. He wanted the whole world to fear our name, so I’m giving him exactly what he wanted. Regardless if he was trying to gain the favor of the Alistairs. Screw him, he made me come here even when he knew what this meant to me. Some people fidget, some look away out of discomfort. I cleared my throat along with the bile threatening to come out. “We’re not college buddies, nor had we been childhood friends. But the moment I met him, I just knew. He was one of the good ones.” My eyes burn with unshed tears at my willingness to relive the best moments of my life. Now, it has turned into the worst heartbreaking memory I could ever have. "Sure, he's no frolicking type, nor would he hold your hand to calm your nerves. But he isn't the type to leave you when you know you're falling apart." I don’t look at him knowing that if I did, it would be the end of my composure. “Our family ties were purely business. But somehow, I got to know the real him. And I hate to be here right now because I know you deserve better than to hear what I have to say.” I inhaled a deep breath. From the back of the room, my father tensed, fearing my next words would ruin his business deal with the Alistairs. Everything I did in my entire life was for the benefit of my family. I never had a life of my own, it was always the family that came first, even when my father didn't share the same sentiment for me. Sometimes I'd think "family" really only meant reputation. What about me? Have I not deserved the right to look after myself? To protect my sanity that the people in my life broke over their need for reputation? The only thing I ever did for myself was choosing Liam. My love. And now, my hell. Who was I if not my own shield? My father has never been there for me, so why should I be there for him? The only person I have the slightest bit of semblance of safety was sitting right in front of me, next to his fiancé, patiently waiting for the end of my speech so she could complain about the Giovanni daughter, who's about to humiliate her in front of her friends and family, to her daddy. Three days ago, I found something that would unwittingly break everything the families have worked for. Something that could break the hold Elena Alistar had on Liam. He deserves the least bit of truth, even if he doesn’t believe it. One more shot, then I’ll stop trying. I’ll stop fighting for him. God knows it’s the least he deserved. I opened my mouth, but the words seized up my throat the moment I met his gaze. The deep blue hue that became my saving grace the moment it first met mine. Memories of how he would hold me when everything got too much. Of how he would steal glances at me when my father was pissed at a job I botched in front of the Manons to make sure I was okay. He wouldn’t hesitate to beat a man twice his age, risking his own death if my father ever laid a hair out of place, even if it meant being disowned by his own family. How he offered to steal me away, and we’d start all over with a new name in another country away from our families and just . . . be. Liam deserved more than the pain my words would give him if I finished my speech. It would crush him. He deserved the truth, but would it cost him more than the satisfaction it would give me? I hate Elena Alistair for deceiving Liam. But the f*****g plot twist of it all was that he knew. All the bullshit Elena's been feeding him, and he just takes it like a clueless houseboy. As if he doesn't have a mind of his own. He does, and that's the irony of it. Liam's not stupid, I should have known he was willingly playing into their game. Which begs the question: if he truly wanted out of this marriage, he would have been on a plane back to Merridan City by now, so why isn't he? Hot soaring pain spread through my chest at the realization that nothing I'd say would want to make him change his mind. This marriage is set, and so is my grief. Revealing a truth he might already know wouldn’t change anything but expand the gaping void inside him where his memories used to be. "I-I remember the time you ruined your pants when we rode that rollercoaster at the county fair, even if it was no more than fifteen feet. I swear, you looked like fresh produce scrambled in a blender and vomited by a three-year-old. And I laughed so hard that even the operator and passengers tried to hide their smiles. I swear, that’s how psychopaths are made.” Elena’s guests let out a laugh as I disguised my despair with one of my own. This time, I let the tears blur my eyes. “Despite that, you still claimed it to be one of the best days of your life. I hope tomorrow tops that." I turn begrudgingly to the bride. "Elena, you're in good hands. Have a happy life, you two. With all my heart, I wish you both happiness in life." Even if I have no place in it. I met his gaze again. The usual stone, cold, hardened gaze that never lets anyone know what’s behind it. But I do. And it breaks me apart all over again. “I will always have you in my heart. Happy or not, our memory will live on with me. Even if it doesn’t live on with you.” I force a smile. “Like how a friend will always love a friend, and an assistant to his boss. Minus the spit on coffee in the early morning.” I raise my champagne glass in the air. “Someday, you’ll go far—and I hope you stay there. To the beautiful couple.” I put the microphone back on its stand and quickly descend the staircase. Instead of going back to my table, I walked in the opposite direction at the same moment another bridesmaid took the stage with a joke to ease the tension I brought. I didn’t look back as the tears flowed freely down my cheeks. The feeling of a heated gaze targets the back of my head, but I’m not entirely sure that it was my father’s anymore. I let the door close behind me, leaving a piece of my heart inside the hall next to the woman betrothed to the man I loved who still hasn’t remembered me.