7. Giselle #3
“If I find out a man touched you tonight, I’ll dismember him in front of you.”
I shake my head as my mouth falls open in disbelief.
“This is why I hate you. Who the hell says that to someone? Can’t you just leave me alone? We can’t stand each other, so why do you care if I let some guy touch me? And don’t you dare say more stupid shit about you thinking I’m yours because we’re about to get married.”
He sighs and turns around, pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a moment to compose himself before he turns back to face me.
“You have always been mine, and you always will be. You’ve been mine since the first time we spoke on the roof,” he takes a step towards me, closing the distance as he looks deeply into my eyes, towering over me.
“You’ve been mine to break, mine to have, mine to ruin.” His rough hands brush my waist, as he harshly squeezes. “I would have never let another man have you the way I’ve had you. You can fuck whoever you want, but we both know you’ve never felt like this with anyone else.”
I scoff.
“Yeah, you know what, you’re right Artem. I have never fucking hated anyone in my life as much as I hate you.”
I push my face aggressively closer to his as I spit the words, and he chuckles darkly.
“Tsk, tsk, solnishko. You want to know something about hate?”
His hands move slowly down my waist to my hip, softly rubbing around different parts of my body as his eyes look to my chest and then back up to my face.
“Hate is the strongest feeling there is. I’m fine with you hating me. You know you’ll never feel this strongly with anyone else. No one will make you feel how you feel with me, ever. No one knows you better than I do.”
He laughs when he feels the shiver that courses through me as he says that, as he moves his hand down to my outer thigh.
“Come now. We have a long fucking day tomorrow. Your friends will all be taken home.”
I can’t push out any more energy to fight this, I know it’s futile. I’m too inhibited to even stop him, and I feel lost in my head. He pulls my hand to lead me out of the club, and I follow him still in a daze.
Luckily today, I don’t have the fattest hangover in history. I don’t think I could manage that on my own wedding day. I already have too much in my head, and I need to keep a sound mind. I take another look at myself in the mirror and let out a deep sigh.
“No one knows you better than me.”
Fucking prick.
What does he know anyway? Sure, he’s made good guesses about things I like, but any guy can do that. It isn’t like it makes him special, or that it makes anything different between us.
I shake off my thoughts and try to live in the moment. Here I am, looking gorgeous in this dress, the most important dress I’ll ever wear, and I’m souring my own moment.
It’s an elegant, satin gown that drapes almost like the dress a Greek goddess would wear. The breast is structured, and starting in the middle of my breasts it drapes down. The sleeves dangle daintily on my upper arms, and my hair is in a beautiful bun with curls falling all around it.
This is the moment I’ve always dreamed of. When I remember today, I’ll just remember this. The only thing I’m missing is my mom helping me fix my dress.
I hear the door click open, and I turn. I see my father poking his head in, and I immediately turn back to the mirror to avoid his gaze. He walks slowly over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder as he stands beside me.
“You look radiant,” he says, looking at my reflection in the mirror with me.
He sighs, and I know he’s struggling to form the words.
Just fucking say you’re sorry. Why can’t men do that?
“I don’t tell you enough how proud I am to have you as my daughter, and I want you to know I’d never have planned this with someone I thought would treat you badly.”
I can feel my resolve breaking, and I clench my teeth tightly to avoid any tears from forming.
“I’ve noticed you two disappearing over the years. I don’t know what you were doing, I never asked, but I knew. I see you, always.”
I don’t know why him telling me he sees me makes me crumble, but it hurts. I’ve never felt seen by him in my life.
“I’d never auction my daughter off to someone who would be bad for her. Sometimes you have to let other people do what’s right for you.”
I only shake my head, still unable to speak in fear of crying. “One day, we can talk about everything. About your mother.” My eyes dart to his.
I’ve tried so hard not to think about her too much today. It’s too painful to remember she won’t see this for me. Even if it’s an unwanted marriage, I needed her here.
“I love you, and I know you’ll be safe with them. That’s the most important thing to me.”
I take in a deep breath, trying to nod. I don’t know how I feel about what he’s saying, and I don’t have time to dissect it right now.
“Let’s go,” he says softly, going to interlock our arms and giving me a smile.
For a moment, I see my father twelve years ago, how he was before Mom died, and I smile back. I breathe again as he leads me out of the room to walk me down the aisle.