CHAPTER 17

Isabella's POV

Stepping inside the church and walking slowly towards the altar without a best lady but my arms entangled with my Grandma's, the groom of the day is patiently standing on the wedding arbor for the bride.

I am holding flowers with a transparent veil covering my face. My head is lowered in shame and guilt.

Shame that this isn't my dream. The shame of doing this and not being courageous enough to back out at the last minute to tell Grandma what this is all about, and wait for the man for me.

The man who would be waiting at the altar for me with anticipation of me becoming his bride. A man who would love me for the depth of his heart and would never do anything to make me sad or cry.

Guilt for letting Grandma do this. Guilt for not telling her the truth. Guilt for lying to her all through till this day.