Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 125

Chapter 125 – This Is Not a Drill. I Am a Wife

Miexha’s POV

I was still dreaming about cake and sparkly light sticks when something wet slapped my cheek.

Not Jayson. A towel.
Thrown by none other than Asha Dom—my maybe-frenemy, definitely-against-this-marriage.

“Wake up, slowpoke!” she barked, voice cracked like she’d cried for five straight hours.

“Huh? Who died?” I croaked, sitting up with one eye open and half a soul still in dreamland.

Asha crossed her arms, cheeks puffed and eyes puffy.

“No one died,” she sniffed. “But my brother’s about to marry a birdbrain.”

That’s when it hit me.

Today was my wedding.

Wait.
MY. WEDDING.
AS IN REAL.
WHAT?!

I bolted to the bathroom, showered at the speed of panic, slapped on moisturizer, and ran downstairs—soap still clinging behind my ears.

There was Jayson.

Waiting.
Eye bags on his eye bags.
Hair? Chaos.
Tie? Crooked.
Soul? Missing in action.

He looked at me. I smiled weakly.

“Hey,” I whispered.
“At least we’re both suffering.”

For one second, I wanted to comfort him.
Then I remembered: I’m fifteen. He’s sixteen.

But seeing how miserable he looked, I made a silent vow:

Even if Zatariel rode in on a unicorn naked, I wouldn’t cheat.
I’d be a faithful wife.

Jayson poked my forehead, gentle.

“We keep this a secret, okay? No school drama. If anyone asks, we’re just dating.”

“Deal,” I said.
“If anyone asks, I’m just your clingy girlfriend. Not your… ahmm wife?”

---

✈️ Fast forward—somewhere over the clouds…

I thought we were signing papers. Like an exam. A quiz, even.
But nope.

Somewhere between airport and courthouse, someone (probably my mom) slapped a veil on me, shoved a bouquet in my hands, and sent me marching into doom.

White dress. Sweaty palms. Jayson by my side.
The judge raised an eyebrow.

“Do you, Jayson Dom, take Miexha Verra—”

“I do,” he said, voice like a dead battery.

“And do you, Miexha Verra—”

“I guess—I mean—I do,” I squeaked.

Rings. Legal words. Mild panic.

“You may now kiss your wife.”

We stared at each other.
He panicked. I panicked harder.
He leaned in. Kissed. Five seconds. Done.

I.. Am... Married.

No edits. No take-backs.

I Miexha Wayne Verra-Dom.
Fifteen.
Still didn’t know how taxes work.
Legally wed.

Our parents clapped politely.
Asha cried again, possibly mourning her brother’s brain cells.

The wedding dinner was quiet. No flowers. No guests. Just family tension and awkward pasta.