The wedding day
SOPHIE MADSON’S POV
*Hours later…
I am arriving at Steven's family house. The time has come for the blessed dinner, and I feel nervous. I need to pretend to be a passionate and dedicated bride. This is the most challenging part because even a glance can clarify that this is nothing more than a big charade.
"Are you ready?" Steven smiles and extends his hand for me to take.
"I have no choice!" I grip his hand tightly.
I take a deep breath and walk together towards the enormous mansion. Passing through the door, I notice some people sitting on the living room sofa. Everyone looks at me cheerfully, and a gray-haired lady comes towards me.
"How delightful. So it's true!" She approaches and touches my hands and hair. "You're beautiful; it's a great pleasure to meet you, dear."
"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Wolker." I smile at being well-received.
"Come, dear."
She holds my hand, pulling me into the living room, and I see some women standing up, accompanied by children playing around the room. I look at Steven and look his eyes at his grandmother's excitement.
"These are Tiff and Alana, Steven's cousins. They are vacationing at our house; Steven's brother is traveling and couldn't attend."
I greet them all with kisses on the cheek. They welcome me politely and joyfully. I feel relieved that they are not arrogant and petty people.
"Steven always spoke a lot about you." I lie shamelessly, trying to act natural.
"Me?" Steven is confused.
"Of course, dear!"
I put my arm around his waist and pinch his back, making him jump and understand that I am acting.
"Oh, of course!" He forces a smile. "Yes, I always talked about my family."
The lady is happy with the statement and asks one of the staff to serve us wine. As I observe the tray approaching, I grab the glass with the drink and take a quick sip, as I need alcohol to relax.
"We were surprised by the news, Sophie. Steven never told us he was dating," one of the cousins says.
"We have always been very reserved." I smile in response.
Steven looks at me intently as if he is surprised by my behavior. I am a woman focused on my goals, and if I am given a mission, I want to fulfill it with excellence.
A little later...
We enjoy good wine, talk about random topics, and then move on to dinner, which is delicious. I realize that Steven's relatives are welcoming and lively. For a moment, I felt comfortable among them.
The dinner ends, and I walk with Steven towards the car after saying goodbye.
"I loved your grandmother," I affirm with a smile.
"She is an amazing person and also liked you." He smiles back.
As we approach the car, I lose my balance and stumble, but Steven catches me. He holds me, pressed against his body. Our eyes meet, and we are hypnotized for a few seconds. Because we are so close, I smell him even more distinctly. I swallow hard and realize that our lips are getting closer. Then I know I am desiring him, which is a great madness.
"Thank you... I... I'm fine now, and..." I stammer, nervous about what just happened.
"Are you okay? Didn't... hurt your foot?" He is also embarrassed.
We move away, both embarrassed by the proximity. Inevitably, I will not remember the night in the hotel; it was hot and intense. But it cannot be repeated. This marriage is an agreement, nothing more!
"I need to leave; tomorrow, I'll be back at work," I say, pointing to the car.
"Of course, let's go!"
I walk ahead of him, trying to ease our tense atmosphere. I start to imagine what it will be like to live with Steven, being a fake wife.
*A week later…
The wedding day has arrived…
I am not ready for this, but I have no choice; it needs to be done for my mother's sake.
I look at the white dress on the bed, sandals, and accessories on the side. This is not how I imagined getting married.
"It's almost time, Miss." The makeup artist states.
"No problem!" I force a lackluster smile.
My room is quiet. I am alone, except for the presence of a hairdresser and makeup artist. The solitude makes me reflect on my life and what will happen today. What did I expect? To have my mother by my side with a broad smile, helping me prepare for this moment and giving advice for a happy married life. Or should I be excited to see my groom waiting for me at the altar? I had a bachelorette party with ecstatic friends the night before, but I had none of that. Instead, I had a week of work, remembering complex events and choosing a dress without excitement.
Steven covered everything, claiming that I should look the part on the wedding day, but it was necessary because I wouldn't have all that money to become a beautiful bride overnight.
I pick up the dress and put it on my body, struggling to get into it, but the professional helping me manages to fit it.
"It looks amazing, Miss Madson!" One of them compliments me.
I look at my reflection in the mirror; indeed, it's a beautiful wedding dress. A mermaid-style dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline on the top, leaving my breasts well-supported. It cinches my waist very nicely and has lace and jewel details. As it reaches the knees, the dress slightly widens with a beautiful train.
My hair is loose with perfect waves, and I have light makeup, as I requested. I am ready for this challenge and hope to go through it unscathed.
"The driver is waiting for you." The hairdresser informs.
I grab the bouquet on the table, and we leave the apartment. Steven's driver is already waiting for me in front of the building, and I get into the car hastily.
We head to the church chosen by my "groom." I didn't participate in any wedding-related decisions except for selecting the dress. I have no idea where the church is located, and I realize how unfortunate this situation is.
I noticed the commotion when the driver stopped in front of the church. He informed me that Steven's family and friends were there to make the wedding look natural, and he instructed me on how to be loving and convey authenticity in my "feelings."
I get out of the car with the driver's help and head towards the church door while a photographer takes some pictures. I force a smile. I will need to become an actress from now on.
When I entered, I noticed everyone looking at me—strangers to me—and felt like a fish out of water at my wedding. I forced a smile, but I thought that I wasn't being very convincing. I looked at the altar, and Steven was waiting for me with his arms crossed in front of his body, showing no reaction. I took slow steps toward him, and he only smiled when I got closer.
It was the most embarrassing situation of my life.
The priest celebrates the wedding, talking about words of love, union, and children. I felt like laughing at that moment, passing my hand over my mouth to hold back the nervous laughter, and Steven looked at me, intrigued. For me, a great irony is that everything he mentions doesn't fit in anything related to us; it's like making a list and crossing out one by one the things that would be impossible to happen.
"Stephen Wolker, do you accept marrying Sophie Madson, in joy and sorrow, in sickness and health, in wealth and poverty until death do you part?" he asks.
"Yes!" he responds.
I looked at him at this moment and noticed that he didn't even flinch and answered mechanically, which made me uncomfortable. I look back at the priest; this time, he directs his gaze at me.
"Sophie Madson, do you accept marrying Steven Wolker, in joy and joy and sorrow, in sickness and health, in wealth and poverty until death do you part?"
At that moment, I started to think until death did us part. In reality, it was not until he found his true love. Those were strong words, and I couldn't marry in the church again.
While thinking, I noticed I took a little longer to answer, and everyone was waiting for the response, so I hurried.
"Yes, of course!" I answer nervously, trying to compensate for the delay with a broad smile.
After he proceeded, continuing with the whole wedding ritual, during the ring exchange, I gave him a small smile, trying to play my part as a passionate bride. Then, finally, he releases the big moment of the kiss.
We joined our lips, something quick with a few seconds' seal, and we were tired. After completing the signed contract, I would be formally called Mrs. Wolker.
We were on our way to the second phase of this torture, and it was not an easier one: the wedding reception. After leaving the church, we got into the car amidst applause and congratulations. I look at him sitting next to me now, serious and thoughtful.
"This is hard for me," I confess.
"I know, it's not different for me." He agrees.
"We are marking our lives forever," I affirm and sigh afterward.
"When all this is over, we will become just memories of each other. You will have a good amount of money besides your mother's treatment, and I, the company's president, will have a good amount. That's what matters!"
I realize that Steven is in a bad mood. I understand that the wedding, all those guests, and the priest's words greatly affected us. I prefer to stay silent.