Page 23 of Falling for the Wife

“Miss Gisele?”Reina, our housekeeper, gently tapped on the door before letting herself into my room. “Your father asked me to inform you that they’re all downstairs. You can come down when you’re ready.”

I blinked a few times before looking away from my reflection in the mirror. “I’ll be right down. Thank you, Reina.”

She was about to turn to leave, but she paused before shyly glancing at me. “I wish you a great marriage, Miss Gisele. You deserve joy after all that’s happened. We’re all rooting for you.” Reina made an encouraging nod before walking out of my room.

They’re all rooting for me…This was all a farce, and for a weak moment, I wished I truly were marrying for love. It didn’t have to be Jared. Anyone would do as long as they loved me like crazy. Wasn’t that what everyone longed for? To love and to be loved in return? But alas, my fate hadn’t introduced me to that person yet. After this morning’s humiliating exchange, I knew Jared would never see me that way. The small shoves he did…didaggravate the situation, but I was so turned on from waking up to him in such a way that my brain took a momentary leave of absence.

Jared came back as promised…after spending all his hardness into Rose’s body. I was not going to lie; I was beyond jealous that she got to have everything I longed for. But Rose wasn’t at fault here. This was all me and what little hopes I had of securing the man I’d craved for almost a decade now. And I was about to marry him, vow that I’d love and cherish him after barely sliding off a woman’s vagina. It was rather cruel, but Jared had been upfront from the very beginning, and I doubted that would change anytime soon.

The only problem in this equation wasme. Not Jared. Not Rose. Therefore, the sooner I resumed my life, the better it’d be for everyone’s sake.

The doctor’s visit proved to be heaven sent. At least, I could be grateful for that. Apparently, I wasn’t even pregnant. The tests I took most likely were expired—that was the only explanation she could provide me with. If this wasn’t a huge sign to move on, pushing me to experience life the way it was meant for me to experience, then I didn’t know what was.

At least, with the definitive knowledge that I wasn’t actually pregnant, there was something to be celebrated. Instead of nitpicking the bad, I’d rather focus on the good. I had so much to be grateful for. Investing my energy in the negative would only bring me further down in the dumps, and I simply couldn’t have that. I had so much to live for. Besides, my friends would be arriving in a week and a half’s time. We were ready to take the step to the next chapter of our lives. I was actually ecstatic about it.

With that in mind, my mood actually lifted. Giving myself a once-over, I quickly roved my eyes to check if everything was in place. It was a dress I intended to wear at a Grecian party that I hadn’t ended up attending last year. It was an Oscar de la Renta with crushed fortuny pleated silk embellished with a crisscross golden braided knot around the stomach, and the low cleavage seemed demure enough to make it work as a wedding dress. I matched it with gold stilettos. My hair was styled in a loose chignon with a few strands escaping to give that lax, subtle look. And lastly, I had my mother’s pearl and diamond hair vine wrapped around my hair strands on the side of my head. It was as beautiful as it was delicate. This was her favored spring/summer accessory, and I thought it would be fitting to wear it. To a degree, my mom would be with me every step of the way.

I took a deep, steady breath. In. Out. “All right, here goes not a damn thing,” I muttered under my breath before sauntering out of my room.

The first thing I saw upon exiting the elevator was Papa in a wheelchair. He didn’t look too well. His cheeks had sunken, more profoundly hollowed than yesterday. Could cancer quickly, rapidly devitalize one’s system in less than twenty-four hours’ time?

“You look like your mother, my darling.” My father seemed so overwhelmed he had tears in his eyes. “I wish she was here to see you.”

Everyone knew he wasn’t one for showing emotions, but seeing him with tears brought some of my own. “Don’t be sad...She’s with us, Papa. You know she is.”

“I know she is…” He wiped a tear, frailly smiling at me. “Do you mind if Nurse Anita wheels me to walk you down the aisle, my darling?”

My gaze shifted to the Asian nurse behind him, seeming affected by our display of affection. “I don’t mind at all.” I beamed at her, a warm gesture she immediately reciprocated.

“I’d be honored to help marry off your beautiful daughter, Sir Peter.”

My father laughed aloud before he directed us towards the garden where the rest of the staff, Jared’s mother Abigail, and of course, the man of the hour himself were waiting.

Thomas popped out of nowhere to hand me a simple bouquet consisting of white peonies and a few baby’s breath.

“You look lovely, my dear.” Thomas proudly gazed over me like a proud father would before planting a delicate kiss on my forehead.

After the almost teary display I had with my father, I couldn’t very well carry on threatening to ruin my makeup when I was minutes away from walking down the garden.

Then my father declared it was time.

With my hand grasping his frail one, we silently began to walk towards the garden with Nurse Anita quietly pushing the wheelchair behind us.

I had never much pondered what the effect of the situation could involve until Jared’s face came to view. He stood close to the minister, his severe stare fixed on me. There was no smile. No hint of joy. He was like a carved stone, and the only sign of life was his eyes. They were very much alive. I felt their power consuming me. Before I began to walk down the white-carpeted aisle, I saw a flicker of sadness in them.

His sadness swiftly embedded itself into my heart. I would never forget the feeling of it. It broke my heart. I promised then that when the time came, I’d let him go, set him free so he could find real happiness. One that brought a smile to his face. After all, I knew I couldn’t be the one to bring light into his life. He only saw me as a means to an end. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Ready, my darling?” My father came up beside me before I took hold of his hand and brought it to my lips, giving it a gentle kiss. His skin had a crepe, wafer-y feel to it, a significant sign he was truly deteriorating before my very eyes.

Bravely meeting his eyes, I whispered, “I’m ready, Papa.”

CHAPTER11

Gisele

“You look marvelous, dear.”Abigail St. James kissed both of my cheeks, vibrantly beaming at me. “My son’s quite lucky to have you as his wife.” Even after almost a decade in America, her Aussie accent stayed the same as when I’d first met her years ago. Jared’s was not as distinct as before. It was a bit mixed between American and Aussie these days.

“That’s sweet of you,” I said as I held her hand. Abigail’s warmth and welcoming nature made me feel all sorts of a fraud. Here she was, brought into thinking that we were secretly married but believing that it was the real deal—that we were in this until the very end—but I knew better. This arrangement would last until I found someone else, and we’d discreetly divorce as planned.

---