Chapter 5 The Wedding Day

Chapter Five

The Wedding Day

Allison woke to silence.

For the first time in days, there were no ringing phones, no knocking assistants, no background murmurs. Just soft light filtering through gauzy curtains in the guest suite of the Wilson estate.

She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling.

Today, she thought. I become someone's wife. I become... theirs.

A knock finally came. Polite. Almost nervous.

"Allison? It's time."

She sat up slowly.

The room transformed the second she opened the door. Three stylists rushed in with steaming gowns and cases of makeup. A planner followed with a clipboard and a headset, narrating the schedule down to the second.

"Hair in twenty, then touch-ups. Photos begin at noon. First look? Canceled-Kyle requested tradition. No peeking until the aisle."

Allison blinked. "No first look?"

"Groom's idea," the planner said brightly. "He wants the moment at the altar to be... cinematic."

Allison didn't know if that made her want to laugh or panic.

Later That Morning

Allison stood in front of the mirror, dressed in the gown she'd chosen-the simple silk one Kyle said looked like her.

She barely recognized herself.

Diamond earrings. A veil that shimmered like mist. Eyes lined and lips glossed until they belonged to a version of herself she didn't fully know.

Behind her, the suite buzzed with final touch-ups and photo setups.

But all Allison could think about was what came next.

The vows. The cameras. The first kiss. The beginning of a very strange forever.

Her phone buzzed,a message from her mom

"I'm here, second row"

She couldn't reply her hands were shaking..

While waiting someone approached her it was Sophia Kyle's sister.

She came to reassure me before the big moment

The Ceremony

Wilson Estate, Garden Terrace

The sun cast a warm glow over the terrace, bathing the white florals and gold-trimmed chairs in light that looked almost too perfect to be real. A string quartet played something elegant, something timeless.

Guests whispered. Photographers adjusted lenses. Every moment was being captured, cataloged, streamed.

Kyle stood at the altar in a crisp black suit, hands clasped in front of him, his expression unreadable.

Except for his eyes.

They scanned the crowd once. Then locked on the entrance.

The music shifted.

Everyone rose.

And then-

Allison stepped out.

The soft silk of her gown caught the breeze. Her veil fluttered. But it was her face-calm, composed, luminous-that made the crowd go silent.

Her steps were steady, though her heart raced.

Kyle didn't blink as she approached. He didn't smile either. But something in his gaze shifted-something sharp and flickering, like vulnerability worn too close to the surface.

She stopped beside him, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat of his presence.

The officiant began.

Words were spoken-about partnership, unity, trust. About love, even, though neither of them had dared say it out loud.

Then came the vows.

Kyle's voice was quiet, but firm.

"Allison Grace Hale, I didn't expect you. I didn't plan for this. But from the moment you walked into my life, nothing has gone to plan. You challenge me. You ground me. And no matter what brought us here-I promise to protect what we build together."

There was a flicker of surprise in Allison's eyes. It was the most personal thing he'd said to her in public.

Then it was her turn.

She didn't read from a card.

"I don't know what this future looks like," she said, her voice steady. "But I know I'm choosing it. I know I'm choosing you. Not because I have to-but because I want to see what we become."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Even Kyle's jaw twitched slightly.

The officiant smiled. "By the power vested in me..."

A pause.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Kyle turned to her.

No hesitation.

No smirk.

Just a steady, deliberate step closer as he lifted her veil, his eyes never leaving hers.

And then-finally-he kissed her.

It wasn't passion. It wasn't performance.

It was real.

The cameras flashed. The guests erupted in polite applause.

But Allison barely noticed any of it.

Because for just a moment... it didn't feel like a deal.

It felt like a beginning.

The Reception

Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in soft golden light. The air shimmered with champagne bubbles and carefully curated jazz. Everything was picture-perfect-by design.

Guests mingled beneath a floral arch suspended from the ceiling. Waitstaff moved like choreography, offering truffle canapés and sparkling wine. The Wilsons did nothing by halves.

Allison stood near the dance floor, a practiced smile on her face, her hand anchored lightly in Kyle's as they greeted guest after guest.

"You've outdone yourself," said a senator's wife, eyes appraising. "I thought this was a merger, but now I'm not so sure."

"It's a little of both," Kyle said smoothly.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous combination."

As she drifted away, Kyle leaned closer. "You okay?"

Allison's smile didn't waver. "Does it matter?"

His lips twitched. "To me? More than you think."

Before she could respond, an announcement echoed through the ballroom:

"Mr and Mrs Wilson's first dance."

The crowd applauded. The orchestra swelled.

Kyle offered his hand. "Shall we?"

She took it.

They stepped onto the floor, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, spinning beneath thousands of lights.

He guided her effortlessly, but his grip was gentle. Their bodies close, but not too close. Eyes locked. Neither of them spoke.

But everything felt like a conversation.

This is real.

This is still a contract.

This is something else, too.

When the music ended, Kyle dipped his head slightly. "You're a better actress than you give yourself credit for."

She didn't miss a beat. "So are you."

The newly married escaped to the side terrace under the pretense of fresh air.

The city stretched below them-glittering, endless, indifferent.

Allison slipped off her heels and leaned against the stone railing.

"Do you ever regret this?" she asked quietly.

Kyle took a moment before answering. "Only the parts where you look like you'd rather be anywhere else."

She turned to him, searching his face. "This was your idea."

"I know."

"And yet I'm the one pretending it doesn't terrify me."

His jaw tightened. "It terrifies me too."

That admission hit harder than she expected.

Silence fell between them-not heavy, not hostile. Just honest.

After a while, he said, "We should go back. They'll start talking."

"They already are," she said with a smirk.

He offered his arm.

She took it.

And together, they stepped back into the spotlight-two strangers bound by promise, watched by the world, pretending this was the end of one story.

But really... it was just the beginning.

Morning After sunlight slipped through the heavy curtains of the Wilson penthouse bedroom, softening the sharp edges of the room-the gleaming marble, the polished silver, the pristine white sheets.

Allison lay awake, eyes tracing the patterns of light on the ceiling. The wedding dress hung untouched on a chair, a silent reminder of the day before.

Kyle was still asleep beside her, peaceful in a way that made her chest ache.

She reached out hesitantly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

He stirred, opening his eyes slowly, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them.

"Morning," he said, voice rough but warm.

"Morning," she replied, unsure what to say next.

They lay there, the silence stretching between them-comfortable, awkward, filled with all the things neither dared voice.

Finally, Allison whispered, "What happens now?"

Kyle's gaze shifted to the window, where the city was already waking up. "Now? We learn how to be us. Somehow."

She smiled faintly, the weight on her shoulders lightening just a little.

Because maybe, just maybe, this contract had a heartbeat after all...