As I brushed my hair in the penthouse suite, the clamor of loud, panicked voices and heated arguments reached my ears. An exasperated sigh escaped me at the realization that yet another dispute had erupted. The day had been a cascade of conflicts, each one more trivial than the last – be it the flowers, the food, the seating arrangements, or the decorations. It was hardly surprising, considering my mother and sister's penchant for perfectionism. I couldn't help but feel sympathy for the wedding planner tasked with satisfying both Olianna and my meticulous mother.

Olianna's impending wedding had dominated conversations for months, not that I minded. I reveled in the joyous atmosphere of weddings, and the solemnity of the 'till death do us part' vow never failed to resonate with me. The thought of two individuals committing to a lifetime together held a profound romantic allure, despite the chaos surrounding the preparations. I marveled at how my elder sister had agreed to marry Zacchaeus after only two months of dating, but I supposed that when you find the 'One,' rationality takes a back seat.

A giggle bubbled up as I contemplated the concept of finding the 'One.' Hopefully, I had indeed discovered my soulmate. Noel embodied everything I could wish for and more – sweet, romantic, sensitive, and compassionate. The anticipation of seeing him in a tux later today sent fluttering butterflies into the depths of my stomach. The effect he had on me was undeniable.

Despite the escalating commotion from the hallway, I rose to inspect my reflection in the full-length mirror in my room. Whatever predicament was unfolding outside could be managed, just as we had dealt with previous challenges. They simply needed to find some calm amidst the storm of wedding preparations.

I twirled a lock of my curled, chestnut hair around my finger, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of my figure-hugging cream dress. Although chosen by my sister for her wedding, I dared not voice any objections. After all, it was her special day, and I couldn't possibly tell her that the dress she'd picked left little room for comfort. The snug fit of the dress cleverly disguised my natural curves, rendering me almost as slender as my sister and accentuating our striking resemblance. We shared the same deep brown hair, emerald-green eyes, and a cursed pale complexion that refused to yield to the sun's embrace. Olianna often praised our clear, creamy skin, but secretly, I longed for a sun-kissed glow from my beach outings.

The dress, snug at the bust with a modest sweetheart neckline, showcased just the right amount of cleavage. A bow cinched beneath my bust accentuated my waist, while the skirt embraced my hips. Despite the discomfort, I couldn't deny that the dress made me feel undeniably gorgeous—a testament to Olianna inheriting our mother's impeccable taste.

Lost in self-contemplation before the mirror, my moment of vanity was abruptly interrupted by the entrance of a diverse group of individuals. My parents, Olianna's in-laws, the Winstons, her fiancé Zacchaeus, and my Uncle Colbyn and Aunt Ophira barged in unannounced. The expressions etched on their faces immediately dispelled any thoughts of intrusion. Worry lined their features, with my usually composed mother appearing pale enough to faint at any moment. A sudden wave of dread washed over me—something terrible had transpired. The defeated and haunted look in my father's eyes indicated that this was no ordinary wedding hiccup; it was a crisis.

"What's happened?" I blurted out, my heart racing in anticipation.

Silence greeted my inquiry; the courage to respond seemed absent among them. My eyes darted between their anxious faces, expecting someone to break the uneasy stillness. Mrs. Winston intervened, placing a calming hand on her husband's arm as he braced himself to speak. He seemed on the verge of exploding with fury, and the mere thought of witnessing one of his infamous tantrums sent a shiver down my spine.

After an agonizing pause, it was my Aunt Ophira who finally spoke, her features contorting into a painful mask of sorrow. Panic gripped me as I realized that this was more than just a wedding hiccup – we were facing a crisis.

"Honey, we found this in your sister's room," she said, holding up a piece of writing paper. My legs shook as I walked towards her and took it from her hands. In my sister's flawless handwriting were the words:

"I'm sorry but I can't do this. I can't go through with this wedding; I don't love him. Please try to understand that I'm doing this for the both of us. I'm going away, and I'm not sure if I ever plan on coming back. Don't try to find me and please don't hate me."

A gasp escaped my lips as I held the note in my trembling hands. This couldn't be happening; it had to be some sick joke everyone was playing on me. I searched their faces for any sign of contradiction, but there was none. Shock and hurt mirrored in their expressions. However, one face confirmed the horrifying truth: Zacchaeus. He looked broken, dejected, and crushed, and my heart ached for him. His slumped shoulders, tensed body, and clenched fists portrayed a silent struggle to mask the pain. His eyes, however, revealed a genuine story of heartbreak. How could Olianna have done this to him?

"Ari, we know that this must be so difficult for you, but we have a wedding to go to in less than four hours with over three thousand people arriving."

I stared at my aunt, incredulous. What wedding? The bride had run away, leaving us to deal with the frightening consequences. There couldn't be a wedding anymore.

As if reading my mind, my father spoke up, his usually confident voice now lacking assurance. "We can't cancel the wedding, sweetheart. It'll ruin us, all of us. If a wedding doesn't take place today, not only will we be utterly humiliated, but we could stand to lose everything," he choked out. I stared at him, dumbfounded, uncertain of where this was headed.

My mother, a woman who had never allowed herself to be humbled by anyone, turned to me, her eyes pleading.

"We need your help, Ari. You're the only one who can save this family now."

About four hours later, I was led into the church, closely followed by my mother, aunt, and a few cousins who had been entrusted with the truth. A long veil covered my face, and the corset underneath the dress contoured my shape to fit into my sister's wedding gown.

The music began to play, and I fixed my gaze firmly on the ground, determined not to let any tears escape. My father linked his arm with mine as everyone else left the room.

"Ari, honey, you have no idea what this means to us," he whispered in my ear. I nodded slightly, not trusting myself to speak.

To the beat of the traditional wedding march, I walked towards the altar, my father gripping my arm tightly—comforting yet suffocating. He let go of me when we reached where Zacchaeus and his best man stood. After completing his duty of giving me away, my father left me alone to take the biggest step in my life.

The vows were said, the lies concealed, as I took Zacchaeus Winston to be my husband, for better or for worse. My actions were mechanical, my tone robotic. I had once dreamt of the day I would get married, but now I knew better. Those dreams hadn't been dreams; they had been signs of the nightmare to come.

With the priest's pronouncement of us as husband and wife, I whispered one sentence, hoping the words would somehow reach him.

"I love you, Noel. Please forgive me."

Fifty times. That's how often Noel had called me in the past hour, and it coincidentally matched the number of times I had rejected his calls, hitting the red button each time. A part of me was withering away as I pushed him away, but a larger part was already dead inside. Numbness had taken over, leaving me void of any emotions. The shock had been so overwhelming that I couldn't react in the way a normal person would under these circumstances.

Leaning my head against the car window, I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, offering a brief reprieve to my fevered skin. Suffering from an illness with a temperature of 102 degrees, it was a miracle I still had some level of consciousness. I couldn't bring myself to tell Noel the truth; facing him felt like tearing my own heart out. How had this day gone from perfection to the worst nightmare of my life?

I, Ariyah Miller, was now married to Zacchaeus Winston, the man who was supposed to marry my sister just hours ago. The thought made me sick, and all I wanted was for someone to wake me from this surreal nightmare. Any moment, I expected Olianna to come into my room, calling for me and shaking me awake to make her favorite chocolate chip pancakes.

But it didn't happen. She didn't come. No one woke me up. Olianna had abandoned me, leaving me to face the dire consequences of her actions. In the car, I couldn't even bear to look at Zacchaeus, afraid of the hatred I might see in his eyes. I had sacrificed my happiness willingly for my family, but Zacchaeus? He had been coerced into it; I had overheard the arguments, his parents trying to convince him. In the end, his father had resorted to threats of disinheritance. I didn't need to look at him to sense the resentment.

The car halted outside the imposing Winston Mansion, a place I had visited with my family but never seen so foreboding. It was cloaked in darkness, and as I gazed out, I realized this reception was specifically tailored for me. If the day had gone as planned with Olianna, there would have been lights, celebration, and an air of festivity. Instead, I brought gloom and perpetual doom. The gates opened, allowing the car inside, and I felt the watchman's stare following me as we entered. As soon as the car stopped, Zacchaeus jumped out, slamming the door behind him.

A migraine intensified, coupled with my burning fever, further deteriorating my condition. I tried to move, but my body felt too weak to respond. The driver noticed and opened my door with a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you alright, Miss?"

I shook my head, a sharp pain shooting through it as I did so. Gripping my temple, I laid my head back on the seat. Everything started to spin around me, my eyes beginning to water. I distinctly heard the driver calling for someone before it all faded to black.

...

"Will she be fine?" he asked and even in the state of near unconsciousness that I was in, I scoffed. He didn't care, the carefree tone of his voice made that obvious. He'd left me in the car and now was putting on act for God knows who.

"Well I've written down the required medicines and a nurse will arrive shortly to stay with her as you requested. I'm sure that when she wakes up, the temperature will be considerably lower. There's no need to worry, Mr. Winston."

A doctor, I assumed and tuned them out. Couldn't he just let me be? I'd prefer to be in this state forever than to wake up and have to face reality. A reality in which I was Zacchaeus's wife, a reality in which my sister had left me to be fed to the sharks, a reality in which my parents literally sacrificed me on the altar. Worst of all, a reality in which there was no Noel.

A pain shot through my chest at the thought of his name. Noel, Noel, Noel. Would he ever find out about what happened to me? What would he think? Would he hate me? I loved him so much, could he be able to see that? The questions made my head hurt and I felt the migraine come back with a vengeance. My head felt like it was being crushed with the weight of a thousand boulders and I couldn't hold it in any longer. A low scream left my mouth and immediately I felt someone rush into the room.

Zacchaeus hovered above me protectively and I shivered inwardly at the size of him. He towered above me as I lay on the bed, his features masked by the lack of light in the room. I couldn't see the expression on his face; was he angry, annoyed, worried?

"What's wrong Ariyah?" he asked softly and knelt beside the bed. He was near enough for me to smell his cologne, an expensive one at that. Noel didn't smell like that, not like rich people. He had his own wonderfully warm scent. I quickly pushed the thought out of my head.

"My head..." I managed to choke out in between the spasms of pain that were now rocking my entire body.

"Here, take this. The doctor said it'd make the pain go away."

Zacchaeus made me sit upright and noticed how disabled the pain had made me. He made me open my mouth and placed some pills inside it and then placed a glass of water near my mouth, forcing me to drink. The simple act of kindness was all it took for my inner guilt to come back and haunt me.

Voluntarily or not, I had taken a place in Zacchaeus's life that was never meant for me. I had invaded his world without permission and he had to bear the brunt of that. My sister, my own flesh and blood had ruined his life because of her selfishness. He did not deserve what he'd gotten.

After laying me down carefully on the bed Zacchaeus walked out of the room, switching off the bedside lamp as he left. The last thought that crossed my mind before the sleeping pills began to take effect was how unusual it was for someone to be so fond of the dark. Not a single light illuminated his way as he walked out so easily into the darkness. Is that how he perceived his life to be now? Full of darkness, was there no room for light in his life anymore?