Chapter Eighty-Eight Adrianna
Chapter Eighty-eight
ADRIANNA
As I stand at the foot of the aisle, everything has finally come together.
The dress, a princess construction which took two people to lace me into, looks every part the Cinderella moment I dreamed of.
It weighs so much I broke into a sweat walking here.
If it wasn’t for Dad, his arm keeping me upright, I honestly don’t know if I could have made it.
But that journey seems symbolic. All the hardships. All the struggle and pain. They’re behind me now. I’ll walk up this aisle as Adrianna Kensington, and back out again as a new person. Adrianna Li. A different family. A new start. No longer dependent on Kensington wealth.
We’ve already signed the documents. The only thing that needs to happen is for the bride and groom to say ‘I do’.
Mark’s gently smiling face comes into focus, and my heart soars. Then my eyes settle on the bridesmaids: Ophelia and Georgia. Petra is stood to the side, taking pictures.
I’m struck by a sudden feeling that I’ve known for a long time, a thing I should have acted upon. My three bridesmaids, lined up in their magenta dresses. I’m terrified to go any closer to them. Something really bad is about to happen.
I turn slightly to my dad.
‘I can’t,’ I whisper. ‘We need to stop the wedding.’
Dad’s face tightens into a pained false smile. ‘It’s just wedding jitters,’ he says, speaking from the corner of his mouth. ‘Every bride has them. Your mom had them. You’ll be fine.’
‘No,’ I’m wriggling against his arm, but Dad keeps his grip tight.
‘You can’t ditch Mark at the altar,’ he says. ‘He’ll be humiliated in every press outlet the world over. Just get through this part, we can work it out later. Mark’s a good guy.’
It’s all happening too fast. The heavy dress, the beating sun, the smiles of my bridesmaids, which now seem suddenly snake-like.
My feet plant themselves, one in front of the other. I have the strongest feeling that I’m walking right into a viper’s nest.
I arrive at Mark’s side. He smiles at me. A gentle, loving smile. Beneath the veil he can’t see my expression. Dad wipes a tear from his eye.
‘You take good care of her,’ he tells Mark.
I’m looking at Mark, but in my peripheral vision, the bridesmaids are lined up in their neat row. One of the girls is raising something from beneath her bouquet.
As Dad reaches to lift my veil, he catches the movement too. Ever on guard, he twists to be sure there’s no threat.
And then, from behind the bridesmaids, I see a figure. Running toward me.
It’s Holly Stone.