The Painful Reality

Evelyn's pov

Today, I am marrying the man I love—the man I dreamt of, the man I once believed I would spend forever with. Yet nothing about this day feels like a blessing. It feels like a sentence.

This is meant to be a moment of joy, of beginnings, yet my chest aches as though something inside me is being torn apart. When I stand beside him at the altar and lift my eyes to meet his, I find nothing waiting for me there. No warmth. No familiarity. Only hatred.

The face that once carried a gentle smile now looks at me with cold disgust, as if my presence itself offends him. His love was never mine. It never strayed toward me, not even for a moment. I was never his friend, never someone he chose. His heart had always belonged to Sofia—to her laughter, her tears, her happiness. She was the one he loved. I am only the one heis forced to marry.

I was a coward. I loved him in silence, hiding behind glances and unspoken words, convincing myself that I was unworthy of his affection, his care, his love. I buried my feelings so deeply that even I began to believe they didn’t exist. But never, not even in my darkest imaginings, did I think my love would end like this—bound to him without being wanted.And yet here I stand, wrapped in white, my hand resting in his. The gown feels heavy, like a shroud. The vows waiting on my tongue feel like lies I am about to swear before God.

I know this marriage was forced upon him. I see it in the tight set of his jaw, in the way his hand barely touches mine. But I am powerless. Powerless to save him. Powerless to save myself. We are already falling, and the abyss has no bottom.

“Evelyn Ashford.”

He speaks my name as if it is a burden, his voice empty of emotion. The sound pulls me back into the present, back to the altar where my heart is quietly breaking.

The priest’s voice follows, solemn and merciless.

“Miss Ashford, please say your vows.”

I nod, though my vision blurs. I draw in a trembling breath, knowing that once I speak, there will be no escape.

And so, with a heart already in mourning, I begin.

 “I, Evelyn Ashford, take you, Theodore Kingston,

to be my wedded husband,

to have and to hold from this day forward;

for better, for worse;

for richer, for poorer;

in sickness and in health;

to love and to cherish;

till death us do part,

according to God’s holy ordinance;

I pledge my faith to you.”

I finally finished my vows, my voice trembling, unable to lift my gaze to his cold, unreadable eyes. The priest’s voice rang out like a bell in the quiet church:

“I hereby declare Theodore Kingston and Evelyn Ashford as husband and wife.”

A heartbeat passed. Then, almost ceremoniously, he added,

“Now you may kiss the bride.”

My chest tightened. I stared at the polished floor, convinced he would never move, convinced this moment would pass with nothing but silence. And yet, in an instant, he was there—his hand at the nape of my neck, pulling me toward him. My breath caught. My heart raced.Before I could even think, his lips were on mine. The kiss was sharp, forceful, devoid of tenderness or warmth—no love, only the cold completion of a ritual. Every part of me ached, and yet my mind was consumed by the strange, dizzying storm in my chest.Then, as quickly as it had come, it ended. His lips parted from mine, and his voice, low and cutting, whispered into my ear:

“Don’t dare think I did this for you. It was only a ritual I am completing, nothing more. This marriage is just a business deal—so don’t expect anything from me.”

I stood there, frozen, the echo of his words burning in my ears. Every fiber of me ached, a silent scream trapped in my chest. How could the man I had dreamed of, the one I had imagined holding me close, be nothing but a stranger bound by duty and business?

And yet… beneath the pain, a tiny spark of defiance flickered. I would not let this coldness define me completely. If he saw me as nothing more than a pawn in some deal, then I would learn to survive within these gilded chains. I would endure. I would endure—and perhaps, one day, that he would see me for who I truly was, not for the person he thought I was.for now, I lowered my gaze, masking the storm inside. The church around me seemed suffocatingly bright, the music a cruel mockery of joy. My life had changed forever, and the reality was sharp and bitter, like ice on my tongue. I had stepped into a cage of gold, and the bars were made of his indifference.

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