Page 13 of Forsaken Promises
As the priest pronounces us husband and wife, I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreading, the moment that seals my fate.
Dominico leans in to kiss me, and I instinctively turn my cheek, refusing to let his lips touch mine. I can’t bear the thought of kissing him, of feeling his skin against my own. It’s too intimate, too painful.
He falters for a moment but quickly recovers, brushing a chaste kiss against my cheek instead. I can hear the murmurs of the guests, the whispers of speculation and curiosity.
But I don’t care. Let them talk. Let them wonder why the bride looks more like a prisoner being led to the gallows than a woman in love.
As we make our way back down the aisle, I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. I can feel Dominico’s arm tense beneath my fingers, but I don’t dare look at him.
The reception is a blur of forced smiles and polite conversation. I move through the crowd like a ghost, my mind numb and my heart heavy.
And then, the moment I’ve been dreading arrives. The band strikes up a slow, romantic melody, and the guests begin to clear the dance floor.
It’s time for our first dance as husband and wife.
Dominico takes my hand, leading me onto the floor. His touch feels like a brand, searing my skin and making my stomach churn.
As he pulls me into his arms, I fight the urge to recoil, to push him away and run as far as I can. The feeling of his body against mine, the scent of his cologne, it’s all too much. Too familiar, too painful.
Memories flood my mind, memories of kisses and laughter. Memories of the girl I used to be, the girl who believed in love and happily ever after.
The girl Dominico destroyed when he shattered my heart.
I close my eyes, trying to block out the pain, the bittersweet ache of nostalgia and regret. But it’s impossible. Every step, every turn, every brush of his hand against my waist… it's a reminder of everything I’ve lost.
Everything he took from me.
I can feel the tears burning behind my eyelids, threatening to spill over and ruin the carefully applied makeup that hides my dark circles and puffy eyes.
But I won’t let them fall. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, of knowing how deeply he’s hurt me.
So, I force myself to keep dancing, to move through the motions like a puppet on a string. I imagine myself somewhere else, somewhere far away from this nightmare.
Somewhere where I’m free, where I’m happy. Where the man holding me in his arms is someone who loves me, someone who would never betray me.
But it’s just a fantasy, a fleeting dream that dissolves like mist in the harsh light of reality.
This is my life now. This is the price I’ve paid for my father’s dying wish.
As the music swells to a crescendo, as Dominico spins me out and then back into his arms, I feel a piece of my soul wither and die.
Because this is only the beginning. The pain and the heartache, the bitterness and the resentment… they will be my constant companions, my unwanted guests in this mockery of a marriage.
And there’s nothing I can do about it, nothing I can say or do to change the hand I’ve been dealt.
All I can do is survive. All I can do is endure.
Even if it means living a life that feels like a slow, agonizing death.
Even if it means forsaking my own happiness, my own dreams and desires.
I am Sofia Sicura now, and I will bear this burden for as long as I must.
No matter how much it breaks me. No matter how much it hurts.
6
DOMINICO
