WEDDING DAY
Alone in her dressing room, Arabella stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection. The gown she wore - an elegant sweep of white with delicate lace sleeves and intricate beadwork. It fit her perfectly, outlining her flawless shoulders and graceful figure.
Her hair was gathered into a smooth bun, pinned with tiny diamonds that glimmered whenever she moved. Iris had chosen the dress, and Arabella silently admitted it: her taste had never failed her.
A soft click sounded from behind her. Arabella turned toward the door just as it swung open. Iris stepped in - dressed in a simple yet stunning beige satin gown. It was rare to see Iris in anything remotely feminine. Her serious expression remained intact.
A small smile tugged at Arabella's lips. "It's a good thing I'm getting married, or I would never get the chance to see you in a dress like that."
"It's suffocating," Iris answered without blinking, tugging at the fabric as if it were her enemy. Her straight face made the comment even funnier.
Arabella let out a soft laugh—her first genuine one that day.
The wedding planner peeked in, signaling that it was time. Iris reached for Arabella's hands, her touch unexpectedly gentle. She wasn't the type to show affection, but today… she knew Arabella needed her like a sister. Together, they exited the dressing room and walked toward the grand hall.
The venue was breathtaking. A high, ornate ceiling rose overhead, crowned by a massive chandelier that bathed everything in warm, romantic light. Ivory drapes flowed along the walls, interrupted only by cascades of white roses, orchids, and eucalyptus.
The aisle stretched long and pristine in plush white carpeting, leading to an arch draped in greenery and flowers. Rows of golden chairs lined either side, each flanked by elegant arrangements.
The wedding planner truly had outdone herself.
An intimate melody rose through the hall as Arabella stepped forward. She kept her shoulders back, her chin steady—even though the number of guests took her by surprise. She had never imagined so many people would come.
Walking alone, she expected sadness, but instead felt courage. Her parents were gone, but she knew—somewhere—they were proud.
Each step synced with the music. She kept her eyes low at first, careful with the long gown. As she continues, she hears faint voices surrounding her from mouths she doesn't know.
"So that is the Hayes' only daughter."
"Arabella is still as stunning as before."
"Such a pity her parents will never see this moment."
"The Senclairs are securing their influence through this marriage."
She forced herself to ignore them and lifted her gaze—determined, not afraid.
At the altar stood Jacob. She finally saw him clearly: the tailored black suit, the crisp white shirt, the silk tie, the pants, and the polished shoes. He looked impossibly handsome… the perfect groom. His eyes found her as she approached. Looking at his bride walking towards him made him swallow. Arabella's figure amazes him.
When she reached the altar, Mr. Senclair stepped forward. He embraced her softly and took her hands, placing them in Jacob's. But before Jacob held her fully, he reached into his pocket.
Arabella watched, confused, as he slipped a diamond ring onto her finger—quietly, secretly. No explanation. No words.
Her heart skipped violently. What is he doing?
But Jacob said nothing, only turned back toward the priest. After a second, she followed his lead.
The ceremony continued—vows exchanged, rings placed, promises spoken - into a silence that felt too heavy and too fragile all at once.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
"You may now kiss the bride."
The guests look at them, waiting to witness their kiss.
Jacob stepped closer, his fingers brushing her chin. Arabella froze. Her own hand touched his arm— trying to send him a message not to do it. He understood, she knew he did, but something in her touch made him lean in anyway, slow and hesitant, his lips drawing closer until he was only centimeters away.
Arabella's breath trembled. Helpless, she closes her eyes - waiting for his lips to arrive, and it did - not on her lips but her lower cheeks.
The angle made it look like a real kiss to the watching crowd. Then he pulled back gently and touched a soft kiss to her forehead - a sign of respect.
I won't kiss you unless you're willing. He thought to himself.
They turned toward the audience and smiled. Applause filled the hall as they bowed—husband and wife before the world, strangers in the privacy of their hearts.
At the very back, Mia watched, expression unreadable. She had never loved Jacob—not truly—but jealousy curled inside her all the same. She straightened her face, pretending it didn't matter.
WEDDING RECEPTION
Arabella's legs were numb from standing. Guest after guest approached, offering greetings, congratulations, and stories she barely listened to. She hadn't been able to sit at all.
Iris watched from the corner, eyeing Arabella's shoes with concern, silently begging the night to end.
Arabella's strength finally wavered. Just as she swayed, about to fall, an arm caught her. Jacob. His hand on her waist was warm and steady.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, like a caring husband.
Arabella immediately removed his hand. "I'm fine. Thanks."
He didn't insist, only kept his arm near enough that he could catch her again if ever she fell.
The night deepened. More guests left. Arabella relaxed slightly, exchanging a relieved look with Iris, who signaled that it was almost done.
Then a familiar voice sliced through the crowd.
"Bella, dear."
Her uncle, Carlos. Her entire body stiffened.
He hugged her with the enthusiasm of a man who had never once been present in her life. "I'm sorry I'm late. Still on time, I hope? Jacob… congratulations. Welcome to the family."
Jacob smiled politely. "Thank you."
But internally, he wondered how a man could look so pleased, given his daughter Mia's history with him. Doesn't he feel sorry for his daughter?
They spoke for a while until Iris, unable to hold back her concern, approached.
"Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but the car is already waiting." She extended her arm, guiding them toward the exit.
Carlos laughed. "Right, right. Enjoy your honeymoon. We'll catch up when you return." He looks at the couple with thoughts filled with evil plans.
On their way towards the exit, Arabella exhaled. "Thanks, that was torture," she said to Iris.
Jacob slid into the backseat. Outside, Arabella held onto Iris, anxious.
"Honeymoon?" she whispered.
"Mr. Senclair arranged it. His secretary informed me…just now. Your things are already on the plane. Don't worry—I changed the room reservation. You won't be sharing a bed." Iris whispered back, guilt laced in her tone.
Arabella exhaled shakily. She couldn't refuse Mr. Senclair's gift. Refusing would raise questions.
In the car, Jacob listened to a voicemail from his father:
"You'll be busy in the upcoming days. Take this opportunity to relax."
So, it was my father who arranged the honeymoon. He sighed, feeling ashamed.
Iris opened the car door for Arabella. She sat beside him, her gown filling the small space. Jacob gently bent forward, helping guide the fabric in. Her hand brushed his arm; the warmth startled her. She pretended not to notice.
The car carried them to the airport in strained silence.
On the private jet, Arabella kept her distance. Exhaustion pulled at her, and despite trying to stay awake, her eyes drifted shut. Jacob watched her quietly, softened by the sight. She must be truly tired. He reached for a blanket and draped it over her with careful hands. Only then did he allow himself to sleep too.
Two hours passed. The landing woke Arabella. The blanket slipped to the floor; she recognized it instantly as his gesture. She picked it up, turning to see Jacob still sleeping. Instead of waking him, she placed the blanket over him. It brushed his face, making him stir.
He blinked awake just as Arabella stood to exit the plane.
Since the wedding, Arabella and Jacob haven't spoken to each other. The trip has been awkwardly quiet.
The car brought them to a secluded resort called Sand & Heaven. At three in the morning, the place glowed softly with warm lights, romantic and quiet. The villa faced a calm, endless ocean.
Arabella stepped onto the sand. It was her first time at the beach since returning home. Something in her chest loosened, and she couldn't stop the small smile that formed.
A resort staff member approached and welcomed them. "Your things are already inside, please enjoy your stay".
The thought of swimming at the beach brightened Arabella's face. Lost in imagination - she didn't notice Jacob staring at her.
Jacob watched her silently, captivated—until his phone rang.
Arabella glanced at him as he checked the caller. Mia.
Meanwhile...
Mia paced her room, consumed by emotions she refused to name. She had no right to feel this jealousy—she knew that. She had never loved Jacob. But the thought of him with Arabella… it clawed at her.
She replayed her father's old instructions. She was supposed to lure Jacob, learn his weaknesses. But somewhere along the way, she craved his attention—not his heart, but his fixation.
Tonight, she couldn't bear the thought of him being with his new wife. Her hands shook as she dialed his number, forcing her voice to sound drunk, pitiful. She wanted Jacob to leave the honeymoon… to come back to her.
Back at the Villa
Jacob answers his phone and distances himself from Arabella so she will not hear the conversation. She pretends to look away while he faces sideways.
But she didn't need to hear his voice—she watched the shape of his words. His posture. His expression tightening.
Arabella's grandfather made her study different methods of communication, including speechreading. It is one of the many skills Arabella acquired throughout 15 years of hard work and training.
"Why did you drink so much?"
"Please understand, I can't just leave Arabella here."
Arabella finally understood. Mia was trying to make him go back.
She almost laughed at the irony.
Gathering her gown, she walked toward him. Jacob stiffened, still holding his phone.
"You can go," she said quietly.
His head snapped toward her. It was the first time she had spoken to him since the ceremony.
Did she know? Did she recognize Mia's voice?
He looked lost for words. Torn. Guilty.
Arabella continued, her voice steady but her heart cracking. "As I told you before… whatever it is you do, I won't hold it against you. Just make sure nobody sees, and nobody knows." She repeated the words he told him at the Senclair mansion.
He puts his phone in his palm, unsure of what to say. He didn't dare to reason with her; after all, he was the reason Arabella built a wall between them.
He doesn't want to leave, but thinking about Mia needing her.... he felt troubled. He couldn't just ignore her.
Thinking maybe her words were too cruel, she turned away, taking her way slowly into the villa. Jacob watched her and tried calling her out, "Ari…"
Once again…that name, making Arabella stop her tracks. The name that holds the power to pierce her hardened heart.
She pinched her leg to stop them from turning around. It's a deception, she keeps feeding her mind. He doesn't care about you. She bit her lip and continued her way to the villa.
At the silent response, Jacob felt a sting in his heart. He was hoping to see Arabella turn her back and face him, he wished to see the smile he misses whenever he calls out her name. The name he gave her – Ari.
By sunrise, Jacob was driving back to the airport.
Arabella heard the engine fading. Another abandonment. Another echo of the past. She lay on the bed, still wearing her reception dress, staring at the rings on her hand.
Her chest tightened as she remembered the secret diamond ring he slipped onto her at the altar.
It meant nothing. She keeps on reminding herself.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
Exhaustion swallowed her whole, and she drifted into sleep - alone once again.