The Don and His Russian Bride

II

My head was tilted directly towards the stream of water. Warm droplets pelted my face before cascading down the rest of my body. If I closed my eyes long enough, I could envision that I was in a different time and place. The sound of rushing water hitting the shower tiles drowned out my thoughts and fears about my wedding that would be taking place soon.

My hopes for time to stand still forever were crushed once the water turned off. When I stepped out of the shower, it was like I was returning to earth from mars and I wasn't used to the gravity anymore. My dread for the wedding was so heavy that the weight of it could've pinned me down to the bathroom floor.

I wiped the condensation off of the mirror to see a person that I couldn't even recognize. The girl in the reflection had dark rings under her eyes and sickly pale skin. Her eyes weren't full of life like mine and she was missing my stern expression that didn't back down from a challenge. Yet this girl was me. She looked exactly as I felt– like she could throw up or pass out at any moment.

A plush white towel was wrapped snug around me. Would someone have a wedding dress prepared for me? If they did, would it even fit? The dress should have been the least of my worries, but it seemed like the biggest one that I could handle for the time being. My wedding dress could look like anything. I had no say in whether I wanted a sweetheart neckline or a drop waist. Every inch of the dress could be covered by rhinestones or the skirt could be large enough to fit a dozen people under it. I abhorred the idea of looking like a glorified cupcake. I would rather wear the towel down the aisle.

When I changed into a sweater and simple black leggings, my father knocked on the bathroom door. "You should be leaving for the church in a few minutes. There is a driver ready for you downstairs."

I opened the door to come face to face with him. My arms were crossed and I leaned against the doorframe as I worked to keep my tears at bay. "Was there really no other way?"

My mind raced as I stared into his dark, unflinching eyes. How could he give me away so easily? I needed answers from him. He cared about me, but was it so little that he could devalue me to a bargaining chip without remorse?

"I'm afraid not." His expression was as stone cold as ever. He continued on, "You are going to make a beautiful bride today."

"Will you be there?"

"No. I can't. Our alliance won't be complete until after the wedding. It would be too dangerous for me to go there before we are on solid terms."

Bile rose in my throat at the disheartening news. Even if I denied it, I had always wanted my father to walk me down the aisle like most other girls. I swallowed it down and continued to blink away the tears. Crying wouldn't change my fate.

"Alright. Let's go."

That was the end of our last goodbye. There were no hugs, no I love you's, and no signs that we would miss each other. My father hated sentiment. He barely looked at me as he walked me downstairs. Once I climbed into the backseat of the car, there was no looking back.

The drive to the Italian church passed by in a blur of trees and random buildings. I wanted to hit the driver in the back of the head and tell him to slow down. It would have made me feel any better though. It wasn't him who was making me mad. It was the people driving my life while they forced me to sit in the backseat and watch it move along faster than I could comprehend.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the church, it hit me that I had one last chance to reclaim my life. There wasn't any place for me to run to, but that wouldn't matter so long as I could be free. I unbuckled my seatbelt the instant our car rolled to a stop. As a man began helping me with the car door, I pushed it forward. The door slammed into his face and he stumbled back from the impact.