It's time to leave Mrs. Thorne

The ring sits heavy on my finger, a cold weight that reminds me of the promise I didn't intend to make. It's not a symbol of love, not even close. It's a brand —a permanent mark that says I belong to him, body and soul.

I barely noticed anything around me— the applause, the screams, and the laughter.

Everything around me sounds muffled like it's happening in someone else's life. I don't feel like I'm a part of it. I don't feel like I'm part of anything.

I'm already lost.

The crowd begins to move, congratulating us, but all I can focus on is the man beside me. Elijah. His presence is suffocating, his every movement deliberate, his gaze never leaving me, as though he's studying me, waiting for something—anything— to prove that I'm his.

But I'm not ready. I'm not ready for him.

"Don't look so terrified," He murmurs against my ears. The words should be comforting, but instead, they strike me like a blow. He knows. He knows exactly what I'm feeling, and it only seems to amuse him.

I try to pull my hand from his, but he doesn't let go. His fingers tighten around mine, the pressure sharp and painful, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes—dark, calculating—fixate on me, and my heart skips a beat.

"You're mine now," He says, as though it's an unassailable fact. "And I don't like it when my possessions try to run." 

I stare at him, I don't know how to answer him. My body is frozen in place, unable to move, unable to fight. His words sting and I can feel the anger and resentment building inside me, but it's useless. I know it.

I can't escape. He has me.

"Come," He orders, pulling me gently but firmly towards the exit. His grip is still tight, unwavering, like I'm some fragile thing he'll protect—or perhaps something he owns, and doesn't trust to be out of his reach.

I don't want to go with him. I don't want to be led away like a captive. But I can't resist. I have no choice. My legs feel like they've turned to lead, but I follow. I have no choice but to follow.

The guests part for us as we walk through the grand hall, a sea of faces that stare, that whisper. Their gazes feel like daggers, their judgments a heavy weight on my shoulders. The murmurs are sharp, and I can feel their eyes on me—on us the newlywed couple.

But all I can think about and concentrate on is Elijah's hand on mine, forcing me to concentrate on nothing but him.

Among the guests, I feel the familiar faces of my parents, a sigh of relief covering my father's face seeing us walk through.

And I can't help but think how all his relief will come apart when he notices it's me who is getting married, and not his dear daughter Susan.

Mama comes close, grabbing my hand. Seeing us, Elijah moved a little, giving us the space.

"Princess, you know what to do, right?" Mama asks, more like reminding me. And to be honest, I am not even sure what I am supposed to do now.

I stared at her blankly and she smiled at me awkwardly, looking back watching if Elijah or anyone else was close to us.

"Listen, Althea, you already married him, don't you dare play any tricks now," She snapped, tightening her grip over my wrist.

I blinked a few times trying to understand what she just said, as this is not making sense. I am not the one who wanted this marriage.

This was not my plan or dream.

Susan wanted this, but she left and now I am here paying the price for her wishes, dealing with her problems.

"Stop talking to me in that tone." I fight, jerking her hands. "I never wanted this marriage!" I added, reminding her how she forced me into doing it, and this was not my plan.

Mama softened, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me close to her, "Baby, I know, I am the one who made you do this, but now that it's done-" She paused, looking around cautiously "You need to be the wife," She added.

What exactly does she mean by that?

But before I could ask her what she meant, I felt Elijah's hand against my waist pulling me close to him and reminding me how it was time to leave. Mama smiles looking at us nervously and leaves, seeing him pull me in.

"It's time to leave, Mrs. Thorne," Elijah says pointing at the car, leading me to walk with him.

The moment we step into the cool night air, the silence wraps around us, and I feel a chill creeping into my bones. The world feels so much colder now, so much more dangerous. The ground beneath my feet feels unsteady.

I nod, following him to the car. But before getting into the car, I glanced back at my father one last time, hoping he could recognize me and pull me back, telling me that I do not need to worry about anything and he'll take care of everything.

But deep down, I know nothing of that sort will happen. He loves his reputation more than anything, just like how Mama loves Susan more than me.