Page 18 of Captive Bride

My stomach turns all over again, their joy making me nauseous.

How lucky you are, their eyes say. What a great catch.

I bite my tongue to stop the truth from spilling free. If only they knew that this marriage was a curse. If only they could see that the man they’re praising is a monster.

I force my lips into a flimsy impression of a smile, planting my feet to stop myself swaying.

“Thank you,” I manage to choke out, forcing my hand to return the shake.

The hand holding mine is quickly replaced with another. The eyes shining down at me make way for yet another face. It seems endless, guest after guest, each more excited than the last.

Halfway through the throng, my composure begins to crack. By the time the last man has sung the Governor’s praises, tears threaten my eyes.

“Thank you,” I offer up, voice strange to my own ears, “Yes, I’m sure we’ll be very happy.”

I turn away before any more well-wishers can appear, eyes searching desperately for an escape. They settle on an unmanned exit, and my feet move before I even bid them to. I race across the room, head down, hoping not to draw any notice.

I manage to go unseen, only pausing long enough to grab a bottle of champagne from a nearby table. I have no destination in mind, only away. My shoes click across the well-polished floor of the hallway, heart still hammering in my chest.

I can’t go back in there.

I can’t face him again.

I have no idea how I’m meant to get through the next several decades, waking up next to that man. Even his arm hung across me felt like an invasion.

To actually sleep with the Governor?

I picture my balcony.

I will myself to find the courage to jump.

Even now, I know I won’t. There’s no escape for me, not even death.

I come out of my thoughts suddenly, seeing that I’ve made my way to the main lobby.

It’s blessedly empty.

The corner of the room draws my attention, and I walk over to it, dress swishing around my feet as I go. Here I am, draped in white.

The Governor’s bride.

Never has my predicament felt so real as it does in this moment.

I fantasize about ripping the garment from my body, fragile fabric giving way, tearing in loud gasps. In my mind, I stand triumphantly, cloth pooled around my feet, before heading for the door and whatever awaits beyond it.

Instead, I find myself in the corner, folding myself into its protection the moment I arrive.

I take a long drink from the bottle in my hand, bubbles burning down the length of my throat. The fact of the matter is there’s nowhere to go.

I can’t possibly escape this life on my own.

Walking through the door now would accomplish nothing. I’d only be dragged back in tomorrow. If I even managed to stay gone that long.

I’m utterly hopeless. Lost.

I feel my mind opening up, a great dark void looming in the background. It would be so easy now to fall into that place. To never come back out.

I can practically feel myself leaning into it, utter desperation drawing nearer—but the sound of shoes on the wood flooring draws me back from the edge.

---