Single Daddy's Beloved Wife

I sat in front of the mirror, contemplating what was happening. Tears filled my eyes with no way of escaping. My heart ached agonizingly. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. To stop whatever was going on.

I couldn't do this anymore. The nightmare seemed real, I was scared. Afraid, but I had no choice. This was my fate. I let the ladies doing my makeup and styling my hair do their work. I sat like a zombie, a string doll controlled by others. Waiting for someone to save me. Unfortunately, this was happening.

It was my wedding, the day I was getting married, and the six women in the room with me were hired to help me get ready. It was just a week ago that I wrote my final exams. I was studying for a bachelor's degree in Visual Arts. I was a few steps from starting my life as an adult and using my skills to become the best fashion designer in the country and make my parents proud.

I even applied for a job at a well-known jewellery company as an assistant to raise money for myself. Unfortunately, it all came crashing down when my parents told me I was getting married.

Here I was, a step away from being tied to a man I didn't know. I didn't even see his face or know what he was like. I wanted to run. But where could I run when we were at the groom's farmhouse? He was from a wealthy family, and my parents were getting me married to a wealthy man from a prestigious family I didn't meet nor love. 

“How is it? Do you like the shade?” I was startled back to reality when one of the ladies asked me. Tilting my head to look at her. She was showing me some kind of blush, I didn't know. I hated everything, I loved something simple. This was why I didn't wear too much makeup.

“The hair, I have several styles for you…" Miss kindly choose the one you want,” another one said, showing me her iPad. I wasn't bothered. All this was fake, I didn't care how I looked because I wasn't marrying for love, nor was I marrying the man of my dreams.

“You are beautiful, the wedding dress looks good on you. The groom will be bewitched,” the ladies continued their compliments. I was dead inside. No amount of perfume or makeup could hide the scars caused by my parents 

A few minutes later, the door to the room burst open. I didn't even bother to look up when I heard a familiar sweet melodious female voice say.

“Is she ready? Please hurry, the ceremony is about to start,” the woman who was excited about the wedding came to check on me. She stood beside me, and I could see her reflection in the mirror. Her name was Erin Romero, and she was married to the older brother of the man I was going to marry. She was married to the most influential, handsome man in all of Italy. She was a brunette with a beautiful smile with bright blue eyes. I had to say she was gorgeous with a voluptuous figure. Anyone would doubt she had four kids.

“Smile sweetie, it's your big day…the guests have started arriving… Do you need a drink or anything, just tell me,” she said, reaching for my chin and tilting my head up a little? No matter how nice and friendly she was, I wanted to ask her not to proceed with the wedding.

“N-no thanks, I'm fine,” I stammered the words out. My voice was hoarse due to crying all night. 

“You are beautiful Lana…should I call you Lana since you are joining our family,” she said with a smile and let go of me, I had nothing to say; hence I nodded just as the makeup lady finished up with the final touches.

“Sure,” I replied to her question, and she smiled even more.

“Marcela is busy welcoming guests, feel free dear… you'll be fine… I was nervous on my wedding day as well. Phew, that fuzzy feeling in your stomach is sickening,” the woman said dramatically, I could tell she was a jovial one and kind of down to earth. For a woman married to such a man, I expected her to be arrogant and cheeky.

Shortly after, the door opened, and this time, it was my mom who came in. Seeing her, my eyes watered. I couldn't stand it; hence, I flung out of the car, forgetting my hair was getting pinned and rushed to her and hugged her unexpectedly. 

“Sweetheart, you'll be fine,” she muttered and hugged me back. I snuggled to her and sobbed my heart out. Furthermore, I wanted her to take me with her, to stop the wedding, and let me arrange my life on my own.

“She's emotional, I'll let you two talk” I heard Mrs. Romero said, but I was too occupied with my mom to mind. The door opened and closed, and it was just my mom and I left.

“Alana, please don't do this,” mom said prying me off her chest, I would rather not let go, but she held my hand and guided me to the couch away from the dressing mirror.

“Mom, this isn't what I want… Please, whatever it is, I'll do it…but don't let me marry a man I don't know,” I held her hands and pleaded with her. If she could feel my aching heart, the pain in my eyes. Then she would stop the wedding. Her hesitation sent a different message. She lowered her gaze and gripped my hands tightly. Tatiana Mendoza was a sweet mother. A woman who loved her family more than anything. I couldn't believe she made such a decision without me.

“Baby, I'm sorry… I already explained what's at stake… if you want you can leave but bear in mind… your father and I will…” my mom started saying, but before she could voice out the dreadful words I would rather not hear. I placed my hand over her mouth, stopping her from saying it.

“Y-you mean the world to me…you and dad are my life…the source of my happiness… If you are not happy…then I'm…not,” they meant everything to me, despite everything, I knew I had to do this for them. To make them happy, 

“Thank you sweetie…you'll see. Ricardo Romero is a good man. He'll take care of you. The entire family is good to us,” her mom remarked with a smile and cupped her face lightly as if afraid she might ruin my makeup. My eyes lowered to her touch, feeling her warmth for the last time. I nodded and a bit back tears, forgetting my dreams. I had to forget 22 years of being a virgin and waiting for the right man to marry. Forget everything because I was getting married to someone who didn't love. 

Mom and I talked for a few minutes when my dad walked in. He was wearing a tuxedo. He seemed happy, but his eyes said something else. Both hugged me and assured me I'd be fine. 

The moment arrived. I was nervous, my palms had turned cold, and I felt liquid dripping down. I nodded when the stepmom to the groom came to ask if everything was okay. Her name was Marcela Romero. A classy lady, I failed to believe she had older children. She was still beautiful and well-kept… I also met Erin's husband. Mr. Armando Romero. He was a little scary with a dark, frightening aura from a distance when he was talking to my father. His domineering personality had me questioning how Erin managed him.

But up close, he was a gentleman and nice. I wondered if the man I was getting married to was scary, arrogant, or a complete gentleman.