The Bride he wanted was Never my sister

Theo's pov

I wasn't one to be jittery.

My palms were sweaty, my nerves were getting the better of me but all that ceased as the large hall door opened and the bride stepped in with her father.

I watched closely as she walked further.

I made the call, but the only way to know if it worked was to see the bride, to lift her veil and see her face.

She grasped onto her father's arm, her steps were slow, contemplative, the grumpy man had whispered something to her.

Her gait was familiar, nostalgic almost.

If my plan had worked or failed I couldn't show it, I could only hope for the best.

Soon she was right before me, I took her from her father's hand, Mr. Holden patted my hand over hers and then my shoulder like he was comforting me. He had a strange look on his face.

I took her hand and led her up the podium where we would exchange vows.

First, her scent hit me, soft, floral notes with a major hint of jasmine. Under all that flowery scents I could still sense just a tiny waft of turpentine.

It wasn't unfamiliar but it wasn't Selena's.

Sweet sweet, Mirabella.

That scent hung on her like a cloak.

I bit down a smile. My plan had worked.

Even her fingers felt different, more slender, coarse.

I steadied myself and lifted her veil.

Two orbs of chocolate glassy eyes looked up at me, her hands shook in mine, her lips quivered.

I was right.

My lips curled into a smile, my eyes watered.

Her brows furrowed. A brief frown crossed her features quickly replaced with confusion. She cast a glance at her parents in the front seat. Both of them mirrored the confusion on her face.

They smiled at her.

There was a startled shuffle coming from someone in my train of groomsmen.

Harper.

Mira's eyes flicked to him but I obstructed her view. Harper knew better than anyone not to cause a scene.

He must have seen his long-time crush standing on the altar with me.

But this was my dream.

I tightened my hold on her hands. Offering her what little comfort I could. As much as I liked this outcome, she didn't deserve to be thrown into it like this.

When Selena came to me, I knew this was the prison break chance I'd been needing. She was right about me being a coward.

The deal was sealed a week before the wedding when Selena approached me to break it off. Her request softened what my initial plan had been and it was a harder means so when she came to me I was relieved I didn't have to go the extent I wanted to go.

"Why are you going ahead with this Theo?" she had asked

I was pouring her a glass of wine at the fancy diner we had gone to. I stopped mid way briefly before continuing.

"What do you mean?"

"This wedding. Our wedding." She sat brimming with a smile.

She touched my arm and I brought it down, placing the wine on the table.

I chuckled. "We are to be wed, Selena."

Her smile dipped. "I know we are. But you don't love me, you're barely there, even when you're with me, you're absent, your eyes wander."

I placed my hand palms down on the cold glass table.

"Selena, I..."

"... I have someone who loves me, Theo. Someone who looks at me the way you look at her."

"I don't follow." I drank wine. "This is what you've always wanted. The wedding of your dream."

"You know exactly what I mean, Theo. Yes, it's what I dreamed of and that's precisely the problem. If I marry you, I'll be getting married by myself."

She stabbed a forkful of tender chicken into her mouth.

An odd satisfaction filled the hollowness in my chest. "You have another man and you no longer want to marry me, is that what you are saying?"

She wiped her mouth. "Yes and it's annoying how you're not spiralling and begging me not to leave you." A coy smile played on her lips.

I smiled back. "I wouldn't want you to be in a marriage by yourself."

"Be lucky I don't rave about you or I'd have to gut you out with China ware." She cut into another piece of chicken.

I laughed at her threat.

It drew out and then the heaviness of a reckless decision settled.

It was no longer just about us, invites were already underway, our families were involved.

Reckless decisions made things spiral out of control and I hated when that happened.

"We have to call it off." I said.

"What?!" She spluttered. "Are you mad?"

I corked an eyebrow up. "you have a man that loves you, and truly, this wedding..."

"Don't say it." She said between gritted teeth.

"We can't call off the wedding, my reputation, your reputation, my family. Hell no!"

"But we don't want to marry, I don't see where you're driving at."

She dragged her seat to my side of the table. "Exactly. We." Her finger moved between us.

I corked my head in confusion.

My confusion clearly annoyed her because the eye roll was so personal.

"I don't show up for the wedding at all." She said it with a mischievous smile. One I had grown accustomed to after years of knowing her.

That smile never boded well, it usually meant trouble for Mirabella.

She winked.

"No... no no."

Another eye roll.

"You're all broody and cold but you've been such a coward. You like her then for God sake, marry her."

I leaned away from her. "Are you insane?"

"Maybe." She shrugged.

"I'm not doing this with you. It's your sister's life Selena. Don't you care about that?"

She flinched. " Of course I do. But I'm not going to be the fool in y'all's love story, if you won't do this with me, then call it off. I won't be marrying you Theo."

She grabbed her bag and began walking away, then paused. "Besides, Mira would be fine. She normally is fine in the end.

***

Mira was scrunching her brows, her eyes bouncing from me to her parents.

I would explain it all after this if she won't hate me by then.

Her hands were stiff in mine as we said our vows.

"I do." She said, her eyes appeared glossy and her throat bobbed up and down incessantly.

Then it was time to kiss the bride. My bride. The one woman who always made my heart flutter.

I leaned into her and lowered my head, eager yet gentle, taking in her scent, the way her jasmine perfumes always deliciously mixed with the heaviness of linseed oil. The patience I had was running over, all these years I had yearned to be close to her, to kiss her red plump lips and give her all the affection my being could muster, I cupped her face and lifted her head till her gaze met mine, defiance and fury mingled with confusion.

Our lips are a breath apart and just right before our lips touched, she turned her face so the kiss could land on her cheek.

Thankfully her veil blocked the guests from seeing it. When I looked up at her face, she was glaring.

She might have gotten a hint of the game I was playing.

Mira turned to the guests, a stiff smile pasted on her lips, she flashed her ring to the congregation. That ring was perfect for her, specially crafted with her measurements.

I leaned in close enough for her to hear me. "You were brave for that Mira but for the purpose of this and your parents, you are the doting bride, my bride." I fastened my suit for what I was about to say next. "Pull away again and I'll tell the press exactly why your sister isn't here and maybe you'd have your father's heart problem to deal with."

She snapped her glare to me, her lips quivered to say more but it wasn't the right place for it. She snapped her lips into a line.

"Your call, Mrs. Hartley."

She flinched.

Calling her my Mrs. sent me into a spiral of excitement. It was the best possible outcome.

We walked out of the church hand in hand, her anger burned hot beside me.

Whatever the case, she was my wife.

I squeezed her hand and she cast me another glare.

Mira was my wife and I would spend the rest of my life convincing her that this was meant to be.