Page 38 of Craving Dahlia

I’m happy to agree when Evelyn suggests stopping at a few more stores, though, because I’m dreading going back to the mansion—dreading running into Alek, seeing that hard look in his eyes, that tension in his shoulders, his dislike and distrust of me rolling off of him in waves. The difference between that first night that I met him and now is like night and day, and while I can understand him being pissed that the night resulted in a baby he clearly doesn’t want—he’sthe one who refused to use a condom. I don’t know why he’s treating me like I’m some witch who’s out to get him.

When we get back, he’s nowhere to be seen, though. At Evelyn’s urging, I agree to just have dinner sent up to my room tonight, and I take my purchases upstairs, collapsing on the bed almost as soon as I walk in.

The wedding is a week away. And I don’t know how I’m going to get through the days to come until then—or all the ones that will come after.

—

The morningof my wedding dawns grey and rainy—fitting for my mood. I wake to the sound of the wind in the branches of the tree just outside my bedroom window and the raindrops hitting the glass, and I close my eyes, wondering if a wedding can be canceled for rain.

Obviously, the answer to that is no. But I can’t help wishing, for just a moment, that that was the case.

Instead, I get up, forcing myself into a hot shower, wrapping my hair atop my head in a towel just as one of the staff comes up with my breakfast. My stomach is tied into so many knotsthat I don’t know how I’m going to begin to eat it, but I pick at the oatmeal and fruit, fighting back nausea on two fronts this morning. Both from the pregnancy, and from the nerves over what I’m about to do.

It doesn’t have to be forever, I remind myself.I can leave, once I’m in a position to take care of myself.But I don’t feel the certainty that I wish I did. Alek doesn’t want to be married to me any more than I want to be married to him, but all the same, he only mentioned divorce in context of his assumption that the baby might not be his. I don’t really know how he might react if I try to leave. He might not care—or he might try to make me stay, out of some masculine idiocy.

That’s a problem to deal with when it happens. No matter what, the wedding is happening today, and that’s what I need to focus on. Getting through today—and the rest will follow.

I’m still picking at my breakfast when Evelyn comes up, followed by Genevieve not long after. The rain outside starts to fall harder as they help me get ready, and I frown at it as I sit at the vanity while Evelyn curls my hair.

“It seems like a sign,” I mutter, and Evelyn laughs softly.

“I know. I thought the same thing when I woke up. But you’ll be okay, Dolly,” she reassures me, pinning each of my curls as Genevieve starts to get my dress, shoes, and veil out of the closet. “Whatever happens, Dimitri and I have your back. And he won’t let his brother be too much of an ass to you. He’ll rein him in if Alek starts to treat you badly while you’re here.”

While I’m here.Another thing that’s completely up in the air. There’s been no discussion about us leaving the mansion anytime soon, if Alek expects me to live elsewhere with him, or what happens after the baby is born. There’s been no discussion between Alek and I at all over the past week. At meals, if I see him, he’s deathly silent, and if our paths start to cross at any other time, he’s made a point of avoiding me.

My future is uncertain. The only thing I know right now is that I have a place to live at the moment, and that by the end of the day, I’ll be Alek’s wife.

I feel numb as Evelyn and Genevieve help me into the dress, trying to remember why I’m doing this. That I’m doing it to buy time, to make sure that I’m not cut adrift while I’m still floundering.

The rain is coming down in a torrent by the time we make it down to the car. The driver meets us at the front door with an umbrella, two more of Dimitri’s security hovering nearby with umbrellas for Evelyn and Genevieve, and somehow the three of us manage to get into the car without getting soaked. The hem of my dress is only slightly damp, and still pristine.

I sink back against the cool leather seat, wishing I could have a drink. Something to take the edge off. My stomach is churning with nerves, and I numbly take the bouquet that Evelyn hands me—a riot of pink and white roses and peonies and baby’s breath. I set it in my lap, swallowing back the burn of nausea at the base of my throat as the car pulls away from the front of the house, heading to the church where Alek is waiting.

With every minute that passes, I think I can feel my heart beating harder and harder. By the time the car pulls up in front of the church, I feel like I can barely breathe.

There’s a line of umbrellas up the stairs, helping the three of us get into the church without getting soaked. When we step into the warm entrance, I try to suck in a breath, the smell of incense and wood filling my senses as I close my eyes and try to calm down. The last thing I need is to throw up or pass out as I walk down the aisle.

Evelyn fixes my veil, bringing it down over my face and arranging it. I feel a small pang in my chest as I realize that there’s no one from my family here for me on my wedding day—that my parents don’t even know about this. My father isn’t hereto walk me down the aisle or give me away, and my mother won’t be sitting in the front pew. I feel my eyes burn at the thought, because whether it was to Alek or Jude, either way, I was going to end up marrying someone for convenience and not for love. And while my parents would have been at one and not the other, it still wouldn’t have been how I would have imagined it.

The doors open as the music starts, and as Evelyn and Genevieve start to walk down the aisle ahead of me, I see Alek standing at the altar.

His face is hard as stone, expressionless, his hands clasped in front of him. He’s not looking at me—he’s looking off in the distance, his jaw set, and I see Dimitri lean forward and murmur something to him, but Alek seems to ignore his brother. Every inch of his body, every tense muscle, seems to scream that he doesn’t want to be here.

Well, that makes two of us.I walk steadily down the aisle towards him, clutching my bouquet, looking straight ahead towards the altar. A slightly concerned-looking priest is standing in front of it, and I try not to meet his eyes, either.

Evelyn and Genevieve go off to the left, leaving me to stop in front of Alek. He doesn’t reach for my hands; doesn’t try to touch me in any way. He stands there, looking over the top of my head, as the priest clears his throat, hesitating for a moment and looking even more concernedly between the two of us before he begins to speak.

There’s no objection, when the priest asks, though I half-expect Alek to object himself. Alek recites his vows in a flat, rote tone, and my voice trembles when I repeat mine. My hands are shaking when he goes to put a ring that I hadn’t expected him to have on my left ring finger—a thin, simple gold band—and Evelyn hands me a matching, thicker one for Alek. His hand feels cold when I slide the ring on, and I swallow hard, trying tobreathe as I get the ring past his knuckle and then let go of his hand.

I barely hear the rest of what the priest says—until five words cut through my fog, through the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Kiss? I’d forgotten about this part. Alek has barely even held my hand throughout this entire ceremony. I can only imagine what the guests are thinking—Dimtri’s brother, coming home after a long time away, suddenly standing at the altar for a clearly rushed marriage to a woman he can’t seem to bear to touch.

He hesitates, and I almost flinch when he reaches to lift my veil. It’s almost impossible to believe that a little less than two months ago, I had the most passionate night of my entire life with this man, when he’s so cold now that I feel like he’d freeze me if I touched him. Everything that was between us that night feels like it’s gone, as Alek slowly lifts my veil and tosses it back over my hair, his dark eyes finally meeting mine as he looks down at me.

I can feel the tension in the room, as everyone waits to see if Alek will kiss his bride—as they wonder why he hasn’t yet. I swallow hard, and he leans forward, his hands at his sides as his mouth brushes against mine.

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