Page 37 of Forbidden Vows

I hear the last of the organ music’s notes dissolve into echoes across the wedding chapel.

My mother would’ve never allowed this to happen.

I look at Anton and take a deep breath. He looks so handsome and ready.There’s so much I’d like to say to him.

“Miss Donovan?” the priest shakes me from my reverie.

I give him a startled look. “Yes?”

“This is the part where you say, ‘I Do,’” Anton whispers.

Murmurs rise behind us.

For a moment, I lose myself in my groom’s hazel eyes, and I actually feel like this could work out. That it could lead somewhere, despite the shoddy kickoff. Something drew us together that night. The child growing inside me is proof of that.

“I guess I do,” I sigh heavily, wishing I had the luxury of genuine enthusiasm.

The priest gives me a strange look, then asks Anton the same question.

“I do,” Anton says without hesitation.

The vows are spoken. It all becomes so real, so fast, that I barely have a moment to properly digest it, to fully understand how my life will change.

This is not what I wished for growing up. It’s not how I imagined my wedding day would unfold.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest concludes.

“Here’s to you, Mrs. Donovan-Karpova,” he says.

“How did you know I’d want to keep my name?” I whisper.

“You underestimate my ability to read you, my darling,” he replies, then kisses me, sealing the deal in a way that leaves my head spinning and my core aching for more.

For a long, sweet moment, the entire world disappears. I don’t hear my stepsister’s bitter sighs anymore. I don’t see my father’s pale, ailing face. Gone are the thoughts of a miserable existence ahead, as a different image dares to flutter before my eyes. It’s an image of me and Anton, at peace, loving one another while our kids run around, laughing and growing.

It sounds sweet and it’s what I truly want, but I’m not sure what I’ll get.

The live band performs an excellent Rat Pack revival as the lead singer croons, most of the ladies present breaking into soft smiles and slowly batting their eyelashes.

I sit beside my husband, torn between two different thoughts—can this actually work out or will it forever be a farce meant solely to advance our families’ business interests?

“Daddy, I’ll stop drinking when I wanna stop drinking.” An already drunk Ciara yanks her glass back from our father when he tries to curb her self-destructive tendency. “My sister just got married! I’m celebrating!”

“Ciara, please,” he tries again.

Ciara walks away, but not without giving me an ugly side-eye as she storms past our table. Everyone else seems to be aware of her discomfort, and judging by the looks on their faces, most of them sympathize. I’m the monster in this story.

“It’s going to be fine,” Laura tries to assure me.

“I need to borrow your hubby for a second,” Andrei adds and whispers something in Anton’s ear.

My “hubby” gives him a long look, then plants a soft kiss on my cheek and leaves the table.

“I’m serious,” Laura insists, nodding at the waiter to refill her champagne glass. “Eileen, everything will work out once Ciara gets past that bruised ego. You’ll see.”

I can’t help but laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “This whole thing shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

“There’s a lot that shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” she chuckles. “But the heart wants what the heart wants. It took two to make that baby you’re carrying, honey.”

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