I Definitely Don't

Chapter 3

Shayla's POV

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of my bedroom, casting a warm glow on everything it touched. Today was the day—my wedding day. A day I had never anticipated, and certainly not like this. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I felt a mixture of excitement and dread swirling in my stomach.

I had spent the last few weeks in a haze of preparations, surrounded by wedding planners and family obligations, each day more surreal than the last. And now, I was standing on the precipice of a commitment to a man I barely knew, with so much still left unspoken between us.

"Shayla!" my mother's voice echoed from downstairs. "It's time to start getting ready!"

I sighed, pushing the covers off and sitting up. My heart raced as I glanced at the ornate wedding dress hanging in the corner. It was beautiful—an elegant gown with delicate lace and a flowing train—but it felt like a weight pressing down on me. This was not how I had imagined my wedding day, and yet here I was, in a situation that felt all too surreal.

After a quick shower, I wrapped myself in a plush robe and walked to my vanity. The sight of my reflection took me by surprise. My long, wavy platinum hair cascaded over my shoulders, and my ice-blue eyes seemed to sparkle with an unspoken resolve. I wanted to look radiant, but I also wanted to feel like myself.

I let out a deep breath and grabbed my makeup brushes, trying to focus on each stroke as I applied my foundation, eyeshadow, and lipstick. The routine was calming, a way to regain control over my thoughts, and I was grateful for the distraction.

As I stepped into my wedding dress, I felt a sense of urgency wash over me. The fabric hugged my frame perfectly, and as I looked in the mirror, I saw someone who resembled the bride I was expected to be. But beneath the surface, the uncertainty lingered.

"Shayla! You're going to be late!" my mother called again, urgency tinged with excitement in her voice.

I took one last look in the mirror, adjusting the lace veil that cascaded down my back. My heart raced as I grabbed my bouquet—a mix of white roses and peonies—and headed downstairs.

The atmosphere in the house was buzzing with activity. My family had gathered, everyone rushing about, checking details and ensuring everything was perfect. My mother beamed at me when she saw me, her eyes shining with pride. "You look stunning, sweetheart!"

"Thanks, Mom," I replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.

"Let's get you to the venue. Gabriel is waiting," she said, her excitement palpable.

"Right." I nodded, my heart fluttering at the thought of him. The last time I had seen Gabriel was the night we talked about taking things slow and building our relationship. In that moment, he had been my ally, but now, I was stepping into a new chapter that felt uncertain.

As we drove to the venue, the familiar Seattle skyline passed by in a blur. The morning fog clung to the buildings, but the sun was starting to break through. "Everything is going to be perfect, Shayla," my mother reassured me, as if sensing my anxiety.

I nodded but couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Would it really be perfect? My thoughts drifted to Gabriel—his intense, steel-gray eyes and that commanding presence. He had shown me kindness and care in the midst of chaos, but I was still grappling with what our life together would look like.

The ceremony was held at a stunning garden venue adorned with white flowers and elegant decorations. Guests mingled, and I spotted familiar faces—friends from college, family, and colleagues. As I stepped out of the car, the whispers of admiration from the guests filled the air, but all I could think about was Gabriel.