I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’m wearing a white knee-length dress with my favourite old nude stilettos that make my legs look endlessly long. I’m wearing blue underwear and borrowed Mary’s earrings. I’m not sure why I even bothered with the old tradition, but it just seemed wrong not to.
The dress I’m wearing is gorgeous and figure hugging, but it isn’t a wedding gown. It’s something I could easily wear to the office without feeling overdressed. It certainly isn’t what I imagined I’d be wearing on my wedding day.
I feel numb. It doesn’t feel like I’m getting married, and I definitely don’t look like a bride. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m about to get married to the wrong Devereaux. In every marriage fantasy I’ve ever had, it’s always been me getting married to Dominic. Becoming Mrs. Devereaux in my mind always meant becoming Dominic’s wife.
Who would’ve thought I’d end up marrying Daniel instead? Daniel, who has always barely tolerated me. Daniel, who is ten years older than me and who is rumoured to have bedded half of London. I know this isn’t a real marriage, but my nerves are feeling pretty real.
I turn when someone knocks on the door. Dominic walks in, his eyes widening when he catches sight of me.
“Wow. You look stunning,” he says. The way he’s looking at me right now is how I’ve always wanted him to look at me. Granted, I rarely wear clothes that are this fitted, but still. I look away and try to smile but fail. It hurts to see him today. It hurts to know that today marks the end of any feelings I’ve ever had for him. Once I marry his brother, Dominic will never see me as a woman again. He’ll be out of my reach entirely. I feel like I’m losing everything in life today. I lost my father and now I’m losing my first love. Why couldn’t it have been Dominic? Why couldn’t my father have asked me to marry the man he knew I loved? If it’s a way to unite the Devereaux and Moriani families, then asking me to marry Dominic would’ve sufficed. I don’t understand what my father was thinking at all.
Dominic walks up to me. His eyes are filled with the same heartache I’m feeling, and for a second I wonder if he ever saw me the way I see him. Did he ever wonder what we could have been? Did he ever consider stepping over the boundary we drew between us as kids?
He cups my cheek gently. I see the love and regret that I’m feeling reflected in his eyes as he rests his forehead against mine.
“I can’t believe you’re marrying Daniel,” he whispers. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
“I can’t believe it either,” I reply. Dominic pulls back and hesitates before he speaks.
“Couldn’t it have been me? If all you had to do was marry a Devereaux, then why not me?” he asks, his voice breaking. I swallow hard as tears start to gather in my eyes.
Dominic buries his hands in my hair, messing up my hairstyle. His eyes are filled with an anguished expression I’ve never seen before. He’s so close yet so much further away than he’s ever been.
“It’s not just any Devereaux, Nic. The will specifically states I had to marry Daniel. Besides, you’ve got Lucy. I’d never ask something like this of you. I wouldn’t dare.”
Dominic inhales deeply. “She’s not you, Alyssa. She’ll never be you.”
I don’t know what to make of his words, and I don’t dare to hope anymore. Not now. Not when it’s already too late.
Dominic leans into me, his lips only an inch from mine. The energy between us sizzles with love, desire and heartache. He moves closer to me, millimetre by millimetre. My eyes fall closed as I wait for the moment his lips finally touch mine, the moment I’ve waited for pretty much all my life.
I feel his breath tingling against my lips and lean in eagerly. His lips brush against mine and when I’m certain he’s finally about to kiss me, the sound of knocking on the door interrupts us.
We jump away from each other as Mary walks in. She looks from me to Dominic with a displeased expression, and I know she realises what we’d been up to.
“Are you ready to escort your future sister-in-law down the aisle?” she asks, her tone sharp. Dominic clears his throat and nods, his eyes filled with regret.
Mary walks up to me and rearranges my hair carefully. I don’t dare to look into her eyes, scared she’ll know what almost happened.
Just as I’d been avoiding her gaze, Dominic avoids mine as he walks me down the aisle. I’ve got my hand through his arm and he’s clutching my hand tightly. We walk slowly, as though both of us know things will never be the same when we reach Daniel. For the minute or so that it takes to walk down the aisle of our local church, I imagine Dominic will stop me. That he’ll tell me not to make the biggest mistake in my life and that he didn’t know what he was missing until I almost became someone else’s.
But he doesn’t. He can’t. If I don’t marry Daniel today, I’ll lose everything my father has worked so hard to build, and Dominic knows that. He hesitates for a second before putting my hand in Daniel’s and then stares at our joint hands with clenched teeth. My eyes follow him as he turns and walks right out of the church instead of sitting in one of the pews. Daniel’s hand tightens on mine and I turn to look at him. His expression is carefully blank, but there’s a mocking smile on his lips. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, reminding myself of what I’m doing this for.
Daniel leans in, his lips brushing my ear. The touch sends an unexpected thrill through my body.
“I guess that love wasn’t as unrequited as I thought,” he whispers.
I pull my hand out of his and glare at him, directing all my helplessness and pain at him. He looks unfazed, and much to my regret, stupidly handsome in his tux. I glance at the empty church. Our only guests are Vincent and Mary, who serve as our witnesses. If it had been up to me, Daniel and I would’ve signed our papers at city hall and called it a day, but Mary wouldn’t have it. Since Daniel is her first child to get married, she insisted on having a church wedding. It seems like a big insulting joke to me to get married in the house of God against your will. I guess my father was right. If God truly existed, I wouldn’t have found myself standing here with the wrong Devereaux.
Despite the beautiful church, the ceremony feels empty. I can’t help but feel oddly disappointed, which is quite the accomplishment considering my low expectations.
I turn back to Daniel, who is studying me intently, his expression unreadable. He’s basically a more rugged and taller version of Dominic. Where Dominic is still boyish in many ways, Daniel is all man. He fills his suit out nicely with muscles I know Dominic works for but has yet to achieve. Daniel’s attractiveness pisses me off more.
The ceremony is over before I even realise it. I know at some point Daniel and I both said ‘I do’, but that’s about it. We sign our marriage certificate in silence, the pen shaking in my hand as I put down my signature. To me it feels like signing my own death sentence and I have to breathe in deeply before I can make myself do it. I stare at it in shock as both our witnesses sign as well. It’s done. I’ve officially become Mrs. Devereaux, just not how I imagined it.
