The late afternoon sky was overcast, but the courtyard of the Arthur estate shone with understated elegance. White and gold flowers, arranged with care, framed the central aisle leading to the altar. The atmosphere was not joyful; it was silent, tense, as if the guests' smiles concealed more than they revealed.
Mel adjusted the collar of her ivory dress in the mirror. At 26, she had learned to smile even when her heart was empty. Yet today, she felt neither nervous nor euphoric. Just determined. Her reflection showed a woman ready to take a step—not for love, but for a better life.
Julia, her sister, entered without knocking.
— It's almost time, she murmured.
Mel nodded gently.
— Do you think they already hate me?
— Probably, Julia sighed, shrugging her shoulders. But their approval isn't necessary. You know why you're here.
— I know it's going to be complicated and that people are looking at me with disdain, but I don't care as long as I'm away from our family. That's enough for me.
She gave an ironic smile.
— I'm counting on that, said Julia. I had to flee by marrying Julius. Despite that, they're still on my back, especially now that you're marrying a rich man. You won't have the peace you desire.
— I know, but at least I won't be living under their roof anymore.
Mel was born in a family with a sister and a brother. Her sister, 28, she, 26, and their younger brother, named Gaitan, who was 22. Their parents were obsessed with money; they scammed people and spent money as if nothing mattered, which nearly drove their family to bankruptcy. Then they decided to rely on their children to get out of their mess.
— Well, it's time, said Julia.
Mel took one last look at herself before stepping out.
Applause still echoed in the hall, but Mel was not listening anymore. Standing next to Andrew, she kept her back straight, chin held high, and a polite smile frozen on her lips. The white dress, simple yet elegant, highlighted her slim silhouette. Not a wrinkle, not a word too many. She played her role to perfection.
Behind this calm and distant mask, her mind was racing.
She was not deluding herself. She knew why she was there. This wedding was not a romantic love story, but a choice, a strategy to secure a stable life, far from the emotional and financial instability of her childhood. Andrew was rich, powerful, influential, and, above all, he had fallen in love with her.
She had not stolen anything. She had not lied. She had simply said yes.
— Are you okay? Andrew asked softly, his gentle gaze on her.
Mel turned her head slightly toward him. He seemed happy, perhaps a bit moved, contrasting with the frozen smiles of his children, sitting in the front row.
— I'm fine, she replied simply, nodding.
Andrew smiled, seemingly unaware of the icy atmosphere from his own family. Mel, however, felt it.
Antoine, the eldest son, was the only one to have smiled at her sincerely, his protective gaze seeming to respond to something the others refused to see. Ethan, the second, looked at her with disdain and distrust, while Henry remained discreet. Maëllis, the youngest, crossed her arms, her expression hard, rebellious, and direct, clearly not accepting this "usurper" in their world.
The moment they had all been waiting for arrived. The priest, a warm-voiced man, asked Andrew and Mel to turn toward one another.
Andrew spoke, his eyes fixed on Mel:
— Mel, I choose you today. I promise to love you, support you, and respect you for the rest of my days. I commit to giving you everything I can, to being there for you, in joyful moments as well as in struggles.