Are You The One Jo Togame?

Chapter 29 - A Wedding Gift

A month has passed, and the whirlwind of wedding preparations with Megumi has left us both breathless—though I feel little joy in the chaos. While he radiates excitement, my heart feels heavy. With each step closer to the wedding, the weight of my decision presses down harder. I'm marrying someone I can't fully love, all because of guilt. I hate that I've led myself here, that I let my choices complicate my life so deeply. If only I could turn back time.Today, I'm standing in front of a full-length mirror in an extravagant wedding gown. After trying on dress after dress, I step into the gown Megumi's mother selected, a mermaid-style gown in soft, radiant white that molds to my figure elegantly. The bodice is encrusted with tiny Swarovski crystals, each one catching the light and shimmering just so. The sleeves are long, sheer, and delicate, adorned with intricate floral detailing that travels down to my wrists, and the gown flares out into a magnificent, flowing trail. It's breathtaking, there's no denying that, but I feel like a beautiful stranger trapped inside it.
Surrounding me are my mother, Megumi's mother, and his aunt—a gathering I never anticipated. Megumi's mother, with her imposing presence and sharp gaze, is surprisingly here, though he rarely mentions her with any warmth. She carries herself with a cool arrogance that's hard to miss, and yet here she is, laughing and toasting with my mother. They're bonding over champagne and mutual satisfaction with their "soon-to-be" daughter-in-law's attire, while I stand here feeling out of place, burdened by the wrong kind of attention.My mother studies me in the gown, her eyes scanning me up and down before she raises her glass. "This gown suits you, Ruby dear," she says, her tone light but with that all-too-familiar edge of critique. "It's about time you found something that makes you look *truly* beautiful." Her words sting, her backhanded compliment echoing louder than she realizes. Megumi's mother and her sister laugh, clinking their glasses in approval as I fight to keep my expression neutral.I swallow my irritation, turning back to face the mirror with a forced smile. "Well, I suppose this is the outfit, then?" I ask, trying to sound cheerful but failing to hide the flatness in my tone."Ruby, don't take your mother so seriously," Megumi's mother says, her voice slipping into a placating sweetness. "She was only teasing. You look positively stunning in that dress. After all, we *did* select the most expensive gown here, and we couldn't have my soon-to-be daughter-in-law in just *any* wedding gown, could we? You'll be part of the Aoi family soon, and you need to look the part!" She chuckles, sharing a conspiratorial look with her sister and my mother as they clink their glasses again, reveling in the moment.I sigh, my eyes dropping back to my reflection as I murmur, "If you say so, Mrs. Aoi." I avoid her gaze, feeling an overwhelming desire to escape this room and leave them behind. The more I stand here, the more suffocating their presence becomes, and I can't help but understand why Megumi has kept his distance from them. It's painfully clear that this is my future now—trapped among people who only see what's on the surface, who care more about appearances than anything real. And I'm expected to play the part.I turn back to the mirror, wishing I could see the joy they see. But all I see is a beautiful gown on a woman who's slowly realizing she's become trapped in her own life.

The day drags on, a blur of endless shopping for every last detail of the wedding. After choosing the dress, I'm whisked from one store to another—first for shoes, then jewelry, and even, unbelievably, for my honeymoon wardrobe. Are you kidding me? I barely have a say in any of it, simply nodding along as they hand over item after item. I feel like an accessory to my own wedding preparations, an onlooker rather than a bride-to-be.Finally, after what feels like hours, the shopping spree ends. My feet ache, and I'm exhausted, but just as I think we're done, they suggest dinner at the clubhouse. Of course, I can't exactly say no, so I go along with it, forcing myself to stay polite. It's one of those exclusive places with polished wood and velvet seats, everything drenched in an air of pretension. I sit across from them at the table, quietly sipping water while they laugh and chatter.Megumi's mother holds court, recounting stories with an effortless confidence, while my mother eagerly joins in. They seem so pleased with themselves and the day's "success." The moment feels surreal, and I find myself wondering how I ended up here, sitting in the midst of people who are strangers in so many ways. It's clear that to them, this is all a fairy tale in the making. But for me, it's just a beautifully orchestrated prison.