The Marriage Ceremony
Juliet's POV
"How I wish you were still alive, Mom; at least I wouldn't be going through this humiliation in vain." I whispered to myself as I remained calm on the soft sofa, fully designed with lots of multicolored ribbons and balloons for the marriage contract ceremony of me and this so-called George Watson, a man I looked up to like a father, who in turn saw me as his wife.
"I felt like slicing his throat with a knife right now." I said, gritting my teeth, and clenched my fist in anger.
As he sat comfortably at my right-hand side, he dressed in a black blazer suit, with a gold wristwatch attached to his wrist; his trousers were straightened downward to match with the black Seward shoes; he was all set up for this charade.
"It's crazy." I thought. Meanwhile, I wore my mother's old white wedding gown, hoping it would be my leverage to stop the marriage ceremony from happening today.
I stood upright in my small room, gazing directly at my reflection in the tiny, shaped mirror attached to my wooden cupboard.
"Ah!" I sighed, "I'm going on a long journey that has no destination," I mumbled to my reflection, before I was jolted back to reality.
"Beep-beep." The horn beeped repeatedly. I slowly walked towards my room's window and drew the curtain sideways.
"Hiss!" I exclaimed in anger as I saw the stupid driver, Parker, leaning on a black SUV, dressed in a black tuxedo, black shades, and black shoes. His appearance was a replica of an undertaker, the only difference being the white tie he wore.
"The dog finally arrived." I grumbled in a whisper, reacting to the loud noise. I glanced back at the wall clock, which read, "7:03 AM." Who was I to complain? I had left with the stupor, who sped in accordance with the command given to him by his boss, who would eventually be my husband today, whether I liked it or not.
When we arrived at the occasion, Mr George's strange gaze swept over me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. He took in my slender figure, my delicate features, and my porcelain skin, but expression about the gown I wore was unreadable.
The idea was to make sure Mr. George's first glance at me irritates him, but instead he somehow maintained his composure; as his eyes didn't even linger on the intricate lace details of my mother's old wedding dress, nor did he seem to notice the way the delicate fabric hugged my curves. Instead, his gaze seemed to bore into my very soul, as if she searching for something beyond the physical, leaving me with a question,
"What's actually going on here?... Who's this man?" A question with an unknown answer filled my mind.
"Juliet, I'm so glad we are doing this today." He sends his giggles and smiles, which I ignored and put on the role of one of my characters in the movie, "The Deaf and Dumb Wife." So I uttered no sound, and never said anything to him; the least he deserves was only the angry, horrible, and annoyance gesture I sent him.
In the meantime, I just want to get this over with; I can't cope with his strange rugged jawline smiling to each person that approaches him, congratulating him, infact l nearly called one of his hypocrite friends and ask, "Is this an achievements?" But I remained patient, and focus on my creator,
"Oh God! I never knew he was such a shameless man." I blurted inwardly to myself, as the DJ increased the volume of a particular track from "Adele I set Fire to the Rain." her lyrics are powerful, emotionally touching my heart, that nearly dropped down a welling tears from my two eyes.
It makes me felt my life was moving too fast, faster than a moving train. The difficult aspect is that I can't seem to comprehend his true intentions about me. His sudden behaviors got my mind filled with lot of mixed reactions.
Firstly, how did he organize this whole wedding ceremony with so many people in just a week, whilst I was mourning the death of my mother? I guess he made sure nothing anyone can do to stop him from achieving his goals, not even the death of a love one.
"All these fake expressions glued to his face can't fool me." I mused thoughtfully and pretentiously flung my eyesight in his direction, as if I was gazing at Mrs. Claire, accross where he's seated.
"I know his cruel heart is definitely filled with different agendas, and I intend to find out." I quickly flung my gaze back, and turned it sideways after his eyes met mine.
I felt he has an occult power that enables him to see the vision that I would get married to him; I would be lying if I denied he's a show killer, and he's proud of that. Excitement was plastered on his face the whole time, ignoring his real wedded wife, Mrs. Claire, at his left-hand side, he didn't even maintain an eye contact with her.
Mrs. Claire is known to be a very strict and disciplined woman; above all, she's a loving woman, although she had no child with Mr. George, but she never allowed any bitch to take over her position or try to become a wife to her husband. Mine was different; she remained calm till now; only God knows why.
"She didn't deserve this kind of stuff." I put myself in her shoes as she sat down, showing no sign of her weakness. No woman is always ready to accept a new competition into their home; this isn't a business deal.
"Why's she acting like nothing has happened?" A question with a million answers lies with Mrs. Claire, whose eyes always find me every second from where she is seated across from Mr. George; she only stares but hasn't approached to say anything or to congratulate me, like others have been doing since the whole ceremony started.
"Her silence is killing me faster than a potent poison would."
Mrs. Claire's POV
"George, I wish you were dead, like my ex-husband, Thomas." I seethed with anger, my regret simmering just below the surface as I sat there, pretending to be calm. If he wasn't as wealthy as he is now, he wouldn't have dared to consider marrying someone else, even if I can't give him the child he wished.
And yet, he has the effrontery to marry his best friend's daughter, Juliet—a move that was, in my opinion, a new low even for him.
I blame myself; I blame my soft heart. I trusted him too easily, fell into his trap, and handed over my entire inheritance gradually after Thomas's mysterious death without thinking about the consequences.
"I think she's fallen too." I muttered to myself in silence, ignoring the waiter who approached me with a silver tray filled with three different bottles of wine and glass cups. The soft "clink" of the glasses echoes as he drew near.
"Get lost," I growled at the young, innocent waiter, my eyes blazing with fury, as he slowly and gently handled the tray, walking away from my sight. Immediately after he left, I bowed my head, pressing my smartphone to check all my WhatsApp messages one after the other. Then unexpectedly I felt a shadow looming above my head. When I raised my eyes and head to see, Mark appeared.
Mark stood before me, exuding an air of confidence and sophistication. His crisp white shirt accentuated his chiseled features, while his black trousers added a touch of elegance to his tall, athletic physique. His size 43 black leather shoes gleamed in the light, complementing his polished demeanor. As he gazed at me, his eyebrows, always impeccably groomed, seemed to shine with a subtle intensity, drawing attention to his striking good looks.
"Mom." He called out joyously, his voice soft yet firm, sending a shiver down my spine. I had called him last night to inform him about George's impromptu marriage party, and he hadn't mentioned or promised to attend.
"Mark!" I exclaimed in a hushed tone, and he continued to flash me beautiful smiles, which soothed the fire burning in my heart, giving me a renewed sense of hope to keep living for my son, no matter what George had planned.
"I'm so sorry for lying about not being here today, but you should understand it would spoil the surprise," he explained, clearing his mind, thinking I was annoyed with him.
"Stop that, Son." I said, standing head-to-head with him, and gave him a warm hug.
"I'm not angry with you; in fact, I'm glad you came. I'm beginning to lose my mind here."
"What's wrong, Mum?" He asked in a low tone, looking me straight in the eyes, expecting my urgent response.
"Never mind." I said, my voice laced with suspicion. I couldn't disturb his peace of mind with my toxic relationship.
"Mum!" he exclaimed, startling me. "Where were you, Mum?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Leave that for now. How did you get here so fast?" I asked, aware that he had to travel from California to London, a journey that normally takes around 11 hours and 30 minutes.
Will I tell him what George has threatened to do with him if I refuse to let him marry Juliet? Could I inform him that George Watson is a well-known billionaire in London Dockland because I gave him everything inherited from his late father? Just how will I say all these?... Just how could I inform him that George is after his dear life? He will definitely hate him forever.
"Mom!" he exclaimed, startling me, "Where were you, Mum?" He asked with his voice barely above a whisper.
"Leave that for now. How did you get here so fast?" I asked, aware that he had to journey from California to London, a journey that normally takes 11 hours and 30 minutes.
"Let me go say hi to the newlywed wife," he said thoughtfully. Although I wanted to stop him, I didn't, because if I did, he would ask me another question I couldn't answer.
"I've been working on a very important case in London for nearly a month now, and I wanted to grant your wish by coming here before I traveled this evening." Mark's detective instincts always found their way into everything he did.
"Let me go say hi to the newlywed wife." He mused thoughtfully; although I wanted to stop him, I didn't, because if I did, he would ask me another question I couldn't answer.
"Alright, she's sitting over there with your stepfather." I replied, gesturing discreetly in their direction. Mark, being smart and intelligent, caught the cue.
He approached them with a warm smile in his eyes. As he walked up to them, seated not too far apart,
"Dad, congratulations, sir." Mark said with a hint of humour in his voice.
"Mark, my boy, thank you so much. I appreciate you being here; it's been two years since we last saw each other." George's face radiates excitement, his expression stuck in surprise; I was sure he hadn't expected to see mark.
The whole crowd fixed their gaze on them as they exchange pleasantries. Then, Mark proceeded to greet Juliet, who had turned her head to the other side of the hall. Looking visibly perplexed.
I had assume she was eager to marry George of her own free will, him of her own will, but her facial expressions told different story. As Mark approached her, his shoes clicking on the marbled-tiled, his eyes remained cool and composed. However, his demeanor changed when his gaze landed on the bride, seated awkwardly, facing another direction.
"Congratulations, ma'am." He said, and she turned her face towards him. He stood still, frozen in shock, as if he'd been punched in the gut, when he saw Juliet's pale eyes fixed directly on him.
"Juliet!" He mumbled, struggling to control his strong emotions. "Mark." She replied, her voice sending shiver. I had never expected them to know what eachother, let alone share a history.
"Love."
Mark's heart skipped a beat as his expressions revealed a mix of shock, pain, and longing—a parent can always tell when their child is in love.
"Mark is in Love, and that must be Juliet, his ex-girlfriend," I thought instinctively. She might be the same person he had mentioned when I urged him to get married and give me grandchildren, but I had no idea she was Juliet, who was now married to his stepfather.