Page 12 of Forbidden Love

He pulls my head towards his lips and places a soft kiss there. That one kiss means so much more to me than anything else in this world.

He stalks away from me, and Damien squeezes my shoulder as he passes me.

“Clark,” I cry. “Will you be there on Saturday?”

He looks over his shoulder and smiles at me. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

And those were the last words spoken to me that day. I’m glad because I don’t want pointless conversations. I don’t want anything. I don’t even want this life.

If I wasn’t so much of a coward, I would end it here and now and then no one could use me as a pawn in their game.

Chapter 5

Kally

“Who would have thought our prom night would arrive so quickly.” Alyssa twirls in front of my floor-to-ceiling mirror. “I still don’t feel like a seventeen-year-old.”

“Don’t ever change, Lyssa. I love you, warts and all.”

We both giggle and look at our reflection in the mirror. My midnight blue ball gown falls straight to the floor. My hair is straightened to perfection, and my make-up is simple and elegant. I don’t like too much make-up plastered onto my face. I hate to feel fake. I’ve always been the type of girl that would take simple over posh any day.

A knock sounds on my door, and it opens slightly. My mom peeks around and gasps. “Oh, my…” She steps inside and holds her hands over her mouth. “You both look stunning.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’m nervous. I don’t know why.”

“Not to make you any more nervous, but Clark and James are downstairs waiting for their beautiful dates.”

“Oh my God, they’re early!” I shriek.

I slip my feet into my silver stiletto heels. It adds a bit of height to my five-foot-two inches. I always joke with Clark when he says I’m five feet because those extra two inches matter to me. I bet a boy would hate for anyone to miss an inch or two off his appendage.

“I’ll stall them, but I think the poor boys are just as nervous to see you. Don’t leave them waiting too long.”

I find it hard to believe that Clark is nervous. The best thing he ever did was leave high school at eighteen. It made his confidence grow ten-fold. Granted, he refused to go to prom when it was his turn because he wanted to wait until we could do it together. That’s how thoughtful and kind he is. He always puts me first. He’ll make the perfect husband one day. My husband if I get my own way.

“Right.” Lyssa picks up her purse and holds her hand out towards me. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I let Lyssa guide me out of my room and towards the spiral staircase. I can hear my mom and dad talking to the guys. My parents have always been cool. I’ve got curfews and rules, but they’re more lenient than some of my friends’ parents. I’ve never given them any reason to worry about me drinking or partying too hard. I’ve always wanted to be a psychologist, and I’ve worked hard in school to gain the grades I need to get into university. I’m no goody two shoes; I’ve just had Clark to help me cover up any mishaps.

The sound of talking stops as we come into view. All I can hear is my heels clicking off the wooden stairs. My heart is pounding, my palms are sweaty, and I feel like I’m floating down to the only two men in my life that I’ve ever loved – my father and Clark.

I’m only broken out of my thoughts when my mom fusses around, screeching that she wants lots of photos before we leave.

Clark takes my hand in his and places a beautiful corsage on my wrist, then takes me into his arms. “Breathe. I’ve got you, beautiful. You look stunning.”

“Thanks. You look amazing in your tux.”

“You all look like kings and queens,” says my father as he steps up beside my mother.

“Right, guys and girls! Start posing for me.”

Clark wraps his arm around my waist and draws me into his side. Without even thinking, I place my hand on his chest and pose for a photo. Just a few moments ago, I was panicking, but right now, in Clark’s arms, everything is so much easier.

***

The day of the wedding arrives all too quickly. I know it’s going to be some lavish event here in the grounds of the Collinson’s estate, but I can’t even pretend today is going to be a happy occasion. I feel like I’m attending my own funeral. This marriage is set for misery and heartache. Pain is the only thing I’m going to get from these nuptials.

Since eight a.m. I’ve been prepped and preened to look like a fake princess. My make-up is done to perfection. My hair is pinned and curled down the side of my face. I don’t even look like me. I would never have picked any of it if I had a choice. I had my wedding day all planned out in my head. I would walk down the aisle with butterflies in my stomach because I knew at the end of that journey, the man of my dreams would stand. Now, I’m joining with the devil. I hate the thought of my dreams being scrapped. I hate it all.

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