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Chapter One
Melissa
Like every other little girl, I’ve always dreamed of a fairytale wedding. You know, the kind where you show up in a mermaid wedding dress carrying a huge bouquet of white roses and ivy, complete with a veil trailing the aisle. Family and friends watch you with both pride and envy as you walk towards a groom that wasn’t born sometime before the moon landing.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against age, but it’simpossibleto tell when George, the man my father is forcing me to marry, was born. For all I know, he could have been old enough to draft for the Vietnam War.
Honestly, I could overlook the age thing if the man weren’t a known sexual predator with assault allegations against him from multiple women, some of whom are minors. I mean hell, I’m barely past being a minor myself, not that any of that seems to matter to my father.
“Of course, nothing else matters but his stupid campaign.”
“What was that, honey?”
“Um—” I look up into the mirror to meet my Aunt Chrissy’s eyes. She is my father’s younger sister, and one of my favorite people in the world, so the fact that she’s taking my father’s side for some reason is heart breaking.
“You said something about your father’s campaign.”
Oh crap, had I really said that out loud?
“Oh, nothing,” I say with a wave, holding back a wince when she narrows her eyes at me.
“Mel, I know you don’t want this …”
“Then why won’t you talk to Dad for me?”
“Listen,” she cuts me off, placing her hands firmly on my shoulders. “I know you don’t want this, but it’s for the best. Your father is going to be the next senator. I’ve looked at the numbers and the office is basically guaranteed, he just needs your support to solidify his lead.”
“But what about how I feel? I don’t want to marry George. He’s old and—”creepy… but I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence, not that my opinion has ever mattered to them anyway.
“Old? That’s all you have on him? Your uncle and I have a huge age gap but we’re happy, are we not?”
This is a losing battle. Aunt Chrissy and her husband have a ten-year gap between them which is a far cry from the decades between me and my father’s biggest campaign donor. To think my own father is selling me off to the creep just to ensure he gets more funding for his upcoming campaigns … It makes me sick to my stomach.
“I don’t see why I can’t at least go to college before—”
“Enough!” booms a deep voice from the doorway. I freeze. Using the reflection in the mirror, I watch my father walk into the room, standing next to my aunt behind me as he glares down at me.
He’s a large man with gray hair and empty eyes, the kind that sends a cold shiver running down your spine. He never used to be like that. Before he got into politics and became the mayor of Port View, my father was an amazing dad. He used to be so loving and caring, but after my mom walked out on us when I was little, he became a different man. She left us for her driver, leaving behind a bitter, angry man always looking for stability through power.
“I don’t want to hear you talk about this anymore, Melissa,” my father said, his voice firm and gaze cold as he meets my own teary one.
“I just want to go to college, Dad. I want to become a vet.Please. I’ll marry him, I promise, but please let me start college first.”
“You’re stubborn just like that bitch, your mother.” I swallow hard at the bitterness in my father’s voice. “My mind is already made up. This is a done deal.”
He steps back so that my aunt can resume her primping, reaching for the short veil and adjusting it in my hair. The door clicks behind him as he leaves.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and wait for me in the car. I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she says as she pats my bare shoulders to signal that she’s done.
I rise from the chair and she fusses with my dress, trying to get rid of the wrinkles before nudging me towards the door. I try to hold back a sob at the finality of things. With every passing second, I draw closer to becoming a stranger’s wife.
I draw up the hem of my dress as I slowly make my way out to the car, my thoughts racing as I try to think of some last-ditch attempt to make my father see reason. All the thoughts come to a screeching halt when I notice the lilies decorating the path outside to the car.
Lilies were my mother’s favorite flowers. Dad got me lilies. They’re a reminder of our life before my mom left, back when everything felt right. Does this mean that, deep down somewhere, he still cares?
“Don’t be an idiot,” I scoff to myself as I make my way to the car. “If he really cared, you wouldn’t be on your way to get married to a major creep for his own political benefit.”
I kick at one of the arrangements with pure, childish spite before sliding into the backseat of the car that’s supposed to take me to the chapel. I settle down and close my eyes for a moment, already counting the seconds until we get to the church. I can feel my heart starting to race with fear as this moment becomes more real.
