A clean start? No outsiders? Was he serious?
Something snapped inside me.
I looked out at the sea of strangers—actors in a ceremony meant to erase my entire life—then back at the man who wanted to own me more than marry me.
I stepped back.
“No,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m not marrying into a family that wants to isolate me.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
He reached for me, panicked, but I turned and walked straight down the aisle—the same aisle I’d entered dreaming of a future, now walking away from a cage disguised as tradition.
And outside the doors, my real family stood there—confused, hurt, holding gifts and flowers.
They had never received invitations.
I broke down in my mother’s arms, and in that moment, I knew I had escaped something terrifying.
The wedding didn’t happen. But thank God, neither did the marriage.
