Page 120 of The Darkness is Calling

“I understood that I have to go through with the wedding, or I lose everything my family have worked for. But that doesn’t make me happy.”

He clenches his jaw and a crease is forming between his perfectly groomed brows.

“Is that why you’re marrying me? That cancellation clause?”

He tries to seem offended, but the role of wounded animal doesn’t suit him. He’s far too serious and mature to fool me with the little performance he is trying to put on.

Things between us changed after that day, when I asked to move the wedding date by another six months, maybe even a year, and he reminded me of the contract.

His love disappeared in that moment, and the warm words of affection were replaced with a professional tone.

Love is no longer bounding us. A contract is doing the “job”.

Just like now.

After all these weeks in which he has been away, I realize the fracture between us is far greater. A hollow separates us, and we are walking together only across papers signed in the presence of expensive lawyers.

“Something tells me the charm of this marriage faded the day I was clearly told that a contract mattered more than what I felt.”

He sets his elbows on the table and speaks with weight.

Coldly.

“I am sorry to hear that is your opinion. But perhaps you need more time to return to the state you were in before your father’s tragedy.”

“Exactly. That is what I need. Time.”

“This time has nothing to do with our wedding, Katya. You can grieve your father after we make the marriage official. Unfortunately, we cannot cancel it. This wedding has to happen.”

Chapter 21

Ekaterina

If you want everything to get even worse, be honest and tell the truth.

And I am proud of myself, because after I did that with Oliver, every day that followed became colder than a Siberian winter. Our conversations suddenly became simple, dry exchanges, tied only to the wedding.

We went together to check the final preparations at the venue. We even had lunch together. Aside from that, nothing pushed us to spend any more time together in the following days.

I can say it was a preview of what to expect from my marriage: a cold relationship with my husband, while I stare sadly out the window, heartbroken over another man who has completely forgotten me.

Artem has given no sign in all these days, strengthening my belief that I was nothing but a game to him.

The irony? I have all these thoughts just two days before the wedding, while trying on my wedding dress for the last time before the big event.

“You’ve lost weight,” the dressmaker tells me in a reproachful tone, the same woman who has been present at every fitting.

“The stress before de weeding,” Jane chuckles, the elegant brunette of about forty, polished from head to toe and responsible for organizing this wedding.

She is the kind of woman who is severe with everyone around her, but very friendly with the bride and groom and those close to us. I like her. It is only that, in this moment, her false enthusiasm collides with my desire to run as far away as possible from everything is happening.

Hmm. That would be an idea.

But something tells me I wouldn’t get very far before Oliver would find me.

“The dress is stunning, Katya,” she exclaims. “Oliver will cry with happiness when he sees you walking toward the altar.”

I am certain she is wrong, but I choose to keep up appearances with a forced smile while glancing at my best friend, who allows herself to wear on her face the disappointment that echoes through my own soul.