The Edge of Light ✔️

Chapter Seven

E L E N A

The grand hall was a blur of glimmering lights and opulence, each detail a sharp reminder of my impending reality. The scent of roses and expensive perfume filled the air, mingling with the murmur of guests and the soft strains of classical music. Everything was designed to dazzle and impress, yet all I felt was suffocating dread.

I stood in my dressing room, the intricate lace of my wedding gown itching at my skin. My hands trembled slightly as I clutched the bouquet of white roses, the same shade as my dress. It felt like a shroud rather than a symbol of celebration. I needed a moment of sanity amidst the madness, so I picked up my phone and dialed Emilio's number.

"Hey, Em," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Lena?" His voice was puzzled. "What's going on? I heard you're getting married? This isn't like you at all. You've always said you'd never—"

"I know, I know," I interrupted, forcing a cheerful tone. "It just... happened. I guess I...fell in love." I felt sick to my stomach.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Love? Elena, Nikolai's like, what, eleven years older than you? This is crazy. And I'm really pissed I can't be there for the wedding. Mom is still in Italy, and I—"

"Emilio, please don't be angry," I said softly, trying to calm him. "I know this isn't what you expected. It's just... this is what's happening now. I promise I'll explain everything when I see you. Just know that I'm trying to do what's best."

He sighed heavily. "Alright, alright. Just... make sure you're okay. I wish I could be there."

"I'm okay, really," I lied. "We'll talk soon. Love you."

"Love you too, Lena."

I ended the call and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my decision settle heavily on my shoulders. My reflection in the mirror was that of a stranger—a bride trapped in a gilded cage. I squared my shoulders and walked towards the grand hall.

---

The ceremony began, and I moved through it on autopilot. Every step felt heavy, every word of the vows I was expected to repeat a painful reminder of the life I was about to surrender. Nikolai stood at the altar, his face a mask of controlled composure. He was the epitome of cold elegance, his eyes fixed on me with a gaze that was both distant and unnervingly intense. Almost as if in this room full of people he could only see me.

The vows were recited, and though I tried to focus on the gravity of the moment, my mind kept drifting back to Emilio's confusion and anger. The thought of him not being here, not understanding why I had chosen this path, gnawed at me. Yet, there was no room for doubt or regret now. I wouldn't sit here and pity myself, it wasn't who I was. Though, I wouldn't sit back and let everything happen to me and just stay quiet about it either. I'd somehow fix this, I was sure of it.

As Nikolai pulled the smaller ring out of the box and reached for me there was a slight hesitation in his action. He met my eyes, as if asking for my permission. I held out my hand and let him slip the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly. Although I was expecting to feel his cold skin against mine it didn't come. When I reached for his ring to put it on him he cut me off, instead he grabbed it himself. Some lunatic part in me was disappointed that I wasn't able to feel his skin. His probably ice cold, firm fingers.

When I looked back up, Nikolai was already looking at me. I couldn't quite pinpoint the look in his eyes but it felt like an anchor in this sea of uncertainty. The finality of it all struck me as the ceremony concluded, and I was pronounced his wife. The applause and cheers around me felt distant, like a faint echo in a dream. I was now Elena Ivanov, wife of Nikolai Ivanov.