Chapter 13 Wedding Bells
Layla stared at the pearl-white invitation card in her hand.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Layla Carter & Jasper Tate. Saturday. 6 PM. Tate Estate Gardens.
Her hands trembled slightly.
“What is this?” she asked, holding up the envelope.
Jasper looked way too calm as he sipped his espresso in the sunlit kitchen. “Exactly what it says.”
“A wedding?! This weekend?!”
“It was Grandpa’s idea.”
Layla blinked. “Of course it was.”
Jasper stood and walked toward her, setting down his cup. “He wants a grand ceremony. Photos. Media. Proof that our love is real.”
“But we’re not actually—” she paused as footsteps echoed.
“Good morning, lovebirds!” Grandpa Gregory’s booming voice entered the room. “Wedding preparations are coming along perfectly!”
Layla forced a smile. “That’s… wonderful.”
“Oh, and don’t worry,” Grandpa added, eyes twinkling. “The media will be there. I told them how deeply in love you two are. I can’t wait to see you say ‘I do.’”
She nearly choked on her breath.
After Gregory left, Layla turned to Jasper, panic in her eyes. “This is getting out of hand.”
Jasper looked at her, his gaze serious now. “I know. But we’ll get through it. Together.”
---
Two Days Later
The Tate Estate was transformed into a floral dreamscape. Cream and gold ribbons fluttered in the breeze. Guests in designer outfits chatted near the champagne fountain. Photographers circled like hawks.
Layla stood in the bridal suite, staring at her reflection. The wedding dress was off-the-shoulder silk with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that made her look like a fairytale come to life.
Her best friend Ayla beamed behind her. “You look like a real bride.”
Layla smiled faintly. If only I actually was one.
Suddenly, the door opened.
Danika Monroe strolled in.
Yes, that Danika.
The ex-girlfriend. Model. Diva. Chaos on heels.
“Well, well,” she drawled, crossing her arms. “Didn’t think I’d miss this little charade.”
Ayla’s jaw dropped. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Danika ignored her and walked up to Layla, inspecting her dress like she was judging a mannequin. “Cute dress. Very humble. Almost convincing.”
Layla squared her shoulders. “Don’t you have something better to do than stalk your ex’s fake wife?”
Danika smirked. “Oh honey, you’re not fooling anyone. But enjoy it while it lasts. Jasper always comes back to me.”
Layla didn’t reply.
Because she didn’t need to.
---
Moments before the ceremony
Jasper stood at the altar in a black tuxedo, cool and unreadable — except for the subtle way his eyes darted toward the aisle every three seconds.
When Layla appeared, everyone fell silent.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
She looked like magic.
As she approached him, Jasper leaned in and whispered, “You’re breathtaking.”
Layla bit her lip. “I’m terrified.”
“Me too,” he said quietly. “But I’d still choose you.”
The ceremony passed in a blur — vows carefully crafted, rings exchanged, cameras flashing nonstop.
But the kiss?
That kiss wasn’t in the script.
Jasper cupped her face with both hands and kissed her like it meant something. Like she wasn’t a fake bride. Like she was his forever.
And in that second…
Layla forgot it was all supposed to be pretend.
---
That night, after the guests were gone and the cameras turned off, Layla stood barefoot in the garden, staring at the stars.
Jasper joined her, hands in his pockets.
“That kiss,” she whispered, not looking at him. “Why did it feel so real?”
He stepped closer. “Because it was.”
Layla turned to him, stunned. “Jasper…”
“I don’t want to pretend anymore, Layla.”
The air shifted.
Then he kissed her again — slower, deeper, like a promise.
And for the first time, she wondered…
What if the lie was becoming the truth?
---