Chapter 2 The wedding that never happened

~Camilla's POV ~

Morning sunlight streamed through the thin, sheer curtains as I stood in front of the mirror.

It spilled into the bridal suite like warm, liquid gold. It made the ivory walls glow, the room radiating with the ray of sunlight over my dress, making the diamond stones sparkle.Olivia had chosen this wedding dress for me, and I can tell her fashion sense is no joke.

I had low fashion sense, or let's say I have no fashion sense. She took it upon herself as my best friend to dress me up even though I turn her down most times. And now she picked the perfect dress for me.

I turned to leave when my eyes caught the red velvet ring sitting on the dressing table beside scattered rose petals, my lips curved into a smile, my heart swelling as I thought of George and the moment he would slide the ring onto my finger.

A small light knock brought me out of my thoughts. The door creaked softly. My mother slipped in, her eyes glistening. She kissed my hair, her hands trembling slightly.

"It's time," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

I smiled, feeling the sting of tears. "Mama..."

"No, no-don't ruin your makeup," she said quickly, pulling out a delicate handkerchief to dab at my cheeks.

"I love you," I murmured, hugging her tight.

"I love you more, my Camilla." She pulled away, studying me like she wanted to memorize my face. "You look... perfect."

"Thank you, Mama," I said, sniffing. The realization of leaving my parents behind hit me.

"You're always welcome, my love," Mother said, squeezing me in another hug.

The door opened again, and Olivia, my maid of honor and best friend, walked in, her blue floral dress swaying.

"Oh my God... You look stunning," she breathed, her eyes wide with admiration.

"Thank you," I said shyly.

"I'll leave you two to talk," my mother said but paused at the doorway. Her smile faltered. "Camilla... call George. He should be here by now. You know how your father is."

I waved her off lightly. "It's fine, Mama. We talked until late last night-he probably just overslept."

She didn't look convinced, but she left anyway.

"Cam, baby!" Olivia squealed, grabbing my hands and spinning me around before tugging me down onto the bed.

"Liv!" I laughed, steadying myself.

"I'm so happy for you," she said, tracing her fingers over the lace on my sleeve. Then her smile dimmed. "But... I wouldn't be a real friend if I didn't say what's on my mind."

My own smile slipped. "Liv..."

"I'm not trying to ruin your big day," she rushed out, "but George still makes me uneasy. I hope he doesn't show up late. Especially not today."

I sighed. "Why does everyone feel that way about him? If you got to know him, you'd see how sweet he is. My father only dislikes him because of his family background. He didn't grow up with love; of course he struggles with people."

"It's not just your dad," she said softly. "George... he hides parts of himself. And sometimes... I wonder if you're holding on out of love or out of loyalty."

"That's not fair," I whispered, looking away.

"I'm not judging you. But I've seen how he talks you down sometimes. How he twists things when you question him. Just promise me you're sure, Cam."

I swallowed hard. "I know him, Liv. I've seen the side no one else does."

Her lips curled into a half-smile. "Fine. Just remember, I've got your back. If he ever hurts you... I'll hunt him down myself."

That made me laugh, though my chest still felt tight. Olivia had been my rock since college. But she had never liked George, not since that night he spilled a drink on her at a ball and she accused him of staring at her chest. He denied it, and I believed him. Still... she never forgot.

"We cool now?" I asked.

"Yeah, we are," she said, smiling.

Soon my other bridesmaids came in, most of them my colleagues from work and Olivia's friends.

"It's time, baby girl," Olivia whispered in my ears while I threw her a playful glare as we walked out.

On the surface, I was calm. But deep inside, my thoughts swirled restlessly.

For the last two years, I'd dreamed of this day. The flowers. The music. The promises. I'd fought for this love when no one else believed in it. And now, it was finally here.

I was getting married.

To George Miller.

The man I loved.

The man I'd chosen.

Outside, faint laughter from the garden drifted through the open window. I could already smell the roses. The guests were beginning to arrive.

By the time I stepped into the garden, it was like walking into a dream. Rows of white chairs tied with silk ribbons. Roses blooming under the summer sun. Guests moving in elegant waves, the air heavy with perfume and excitement. My father had spared no expense.

Music swelled as I began walking down the aisle. Guests rose to their feet. Cameras flashed like fireflies.

My heart pounded with every step.

I looked up at the altar; my smile dropped drastically.

And froze.

George wasn't there.

Only the priest stood under the floral arch, his gaze flicking nervously to the empty space beside him.

The air shifted. People began whispering.

I turned slowly, scanning the crowd. Olivia was rushing toward me, panic etched on her face, mouthing something I couldn't hear.

My legs went weak. My vision blurred.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was the camera flashes sti

ll going because my wedding was being broadcast live.

The world was watching when my groom disappeared.