Addiction| 18+

3|Wedding

                                          .Hayley.

I wiped the tears from my face as I stared at the girl in the mirror. She was beautiful. Her skin had a soft, natural glow, warm and tan, like she had never spent a day hiding inside. Her eyes—dark, sparkly blue—looked alive, almost hopeful, as if they belonged to someone who still believed in something good. Her makeup was light but flawless, a soft pink brushed across her cheeks that made her look delicate, almost innocent. Her hair had been curled and pinned into a loose, low bun, with a few strands falling perfectly around her face like something out of a magazine.

And the dress... The dress looked like it belonged in a fairytale. White silk clung to her body, covered in tiny diamonds and embroidered flowers that wrapped around her chest and trailed down her waist. It fit perfectly, shaping her into something elegant, something expensive—something untouchable. She didn't look real. And that was because she wasn't. That girl in the mirror wasn't me.

A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach as I continued staring at her.

It had taken them two hours to create this version of me. The moment I arrived, they stripped me out of my clothes and shoved me into a dress I didn't choose. Then came the makeup, the hair, the endless adjustments—layer after layer until the girl I used to recognize disappeared completely.

What was left felt like a lie. I looked like someone pretending to be okay. But I wasn't.

I wasn't the happy bride they wanted me to be. I wasn't in love, and I wasn't excited. Most days, I didn't even want to be alive, and the rest of the time, I was just trying to find a way to make the pain stop.

My fingers twitched slightly at my sides. The thought came immediately: pills. My chest tightened as the craving settled in. My body felt wrong, too aware, too tense. It was like something invisible was pressing down on me, making it harder to breathe with every passing second. My thoughts started to race, slipping further and further out of my control.

I swallowed hard and kept my eyes on the mirror. Two years. Two years of convincing myself I was free. Two years of believing I had escaped my father.

The memory of him crept in before I could stop it—his voice, low and threatening, echoing through my mind. The feeling of his presence, his control... I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop. But it didn't stop. It never did. And now I was right back where I started. Except this time, it felt worse. This time, I wasn't just trapped—I was being handed off. Sold. To a man I didn't know.

Grey Anderson.

That was all I had. A name.

I opened my eyes again and forced myself to look at my reflection. I tried to imagine what my life would look like with him, but my mind refused to give me anything good. Instead, it gave me fear. Dark rooms. Cold floors. Hands I couldn't escape. Different face. Same ending. I let out a quiet, humorless breath. At this point, it didn't matter how it happened. Whether it was slow or quick, painful or sudden—it would all end the same way.

"You look beautiful, honey." The soft voice behind me made me flinch. I forced a small smile, even though it felt unnatural. "Thank you," I said quietly. The words felt empty. "I'm going to use the bathroom before we start," I added, not waiting for a response.

They let me go. The clock on the wall read 2:40 p.m. Twenty minutes. That was all I had left.

The moment I locked the bathroom stall, my hands moved without hesitation. I reached into my bra and pulled out the small stash of pills I always kept hidden. My safety net. My escape. My hands trembled as I stared down at them. I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I swallowed them dry. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then slowly, the tension in my body began to ease. My chest loosened, and the constant noise in my head quieted just enough for me to breathe. I leaned back against the stall and closed my eyes.

Finally.

Peace.

But it didn't last. A sharp pain twisted through my stomach, and before I could react, I leaned forward and got sick onto the floor. My body shook violently as I gagged, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. It didn't work. It never worked when I needed it to. By the time I managed to stand again, I felt just as broken as before.

A few minutes later, I was back in front of the mirror. Perfect again. Untouched. Like nothing had happened.

"Miss White! Your flowers!" I turned just in time to catch them. Baby's breath. For a moment, everything else faded. These used to be my favorite flowers when I was a kid. I remembered picking them from the garden, holding them in my hands as if they were something rare and precious, even though everyone else said they were just filler—flowers meant to make other bouquets look better.

I never understood that. I always thought they were enough on their own. Simple. Soft. Quiet. Just like I used to be.

My fingers tightened around the stems as the noise around me came rushing back. Now they felt like something else entirely. Just another detail in a life that didn't belong to me.

The music started, and before I could think, I was walking. Each step felt heavier than the last as I moved down the aisle. My grip on the flowers tightened until my hands began to ache, but I didn't let go. I couldn't look up. Not yet.

By the time I reached the altar, my body felt numb. Empty. Slowly, I forced myself to look.

And there he was. Grey Anderson. He stood tall, dressed entirely in black. His shirt was fitted, outlining broad shoulders and a strong, solid frame. His dark hair fell in slightly messy waves, pushed back just enough to keep it out of his face. A few strands fell naturally over his forehead. His skin was lightly tanned, but not warm, more cold, like he spent most of his life indoors or in shadows. His features were sharp: defined jaw, straight nose, light stubble along his chin and jaw, not messy, just enough to make him look older, rougher. His lips were neutral, as if he wasn't used to smiling.

But his eyes—his eyes stopped me completely. Dark gray, almost silver, with hints of deep blue swirling beneath the surface. They weren't soft. They weren't kind. They were controlled, calculating, watching. He was reading me. A chill ran down my spine, and I looked away quickly.

The ceremony began, but I barely heard it. The words passed over me like meaningless noise. When it was time to speak, the answers came out automatically. "I do."

The biggest lie I had ever told.

When his hand touched mine, even through the fabric of my glove, my body tensed instantly. Every instinct in me told me to pull away, but I didn't. I couldn't.

Because deep down, I knew something, this wasn't an ending. It was only the beginning.

***

End of chapter three!!!

Lmk what you guys think about it!!

This might be my favorite chapter... ;)