Chapter 3:
The wedding was small, quiet, and painfully efficient.
No family gathered in joy, no laughter echoed through the room. Just a handful of witnesses, a lawyer, and a man she barely knew standing beside her in a perfectly tailored suit.
Elara stood still, hands clasped in front of her, the white dress feeling heavier than it should have. It wasn't what she had imagined as a child — there were no flowers she picked herself, no trembling excitement, no vows spoken from the heart.
Only signatures.
Only obligation.
The officiant spoke words Elara barely heard, her mind floating somewhere far away. When she was asked to repeat her vows, her voice came out steady, even though her chest felt tight.
"I do."
The words sounded final.
Adrian said the same, his tone calm, unreadable. If he felt anything at all, he didn't show it.
There was no kiss.
Instead, they turned to face the witnesses as cameras clicked, capturing a moment that would later be presented as love — even though none existed.
When it was over, Adrian leaned slightly toward her.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
Elara nodded. "It's done."
"Yes," he replied. "It is."
They exited the building side by side, not as husband and wife, but as partners in a carefully constructed lie.
And as the car door closed behind her, Elara realized something terrifying:
She wasn't sure when she had crossed the line between survival and surrender.