Forbidden Love On A Full Night
Decisions
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...¤ THIS STORY GENRE ROMANCE HOT 21...
...¤ THERE ARE ELEMENTS *SEXUAL AND HARDNESS...
...¤ NOT FOR MINORS...
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I, the Mahardika Full Light, in a wedding dress, firmly gripped my father's hand as I stepped down the alley towards the altar. A marriage I can't do. Why can I let everything go this far? Why am I still here?
Knowing my uneasiness, my father grabbed and patted my hand and he whispered to me, "Just relax."
Relax anyway? How could I possibly relax? This is the fourth time I've done this - marriage in compulsion. And with the possibility, after this marriage my new husband is expected to die tragically and I will bear the status of a virgin widow for the fourth time? God, why can't I ever argue with my dad? Should I continue this wedding?
I glanced at the long white tendrils that stretched before me, the satin white ribbons at the end of the pews, as well as the tall twigs webbing filled with rose buds and baby's breath in pink and white. The female witness and the five bridesmaids, all dressed in young violet dresses and carrying a bouquet of pink carnations, stood there and looked much happier than me, the bride. They must be reminiscing about their own marriage or imagining their marriage later. My brothers, Prasetya Mahardika and Pramana Mahardika, stood beside Mr. Hartawan, along with two brothers and a cousin of the man.
Why did I let my father persuade me to go through with this marriage?
From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother sitting on the front row, looking proud and sad.
My father grimaced as I gripped his arm tightly. In a few steps I was in front of the altar. The fragrance of roses filled the air.
My father leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and placed my cold, trembling hand on the hand of Mr. Hartawan. Feeling abandoned, I pleaded inwardly to my father, who smiled encouragingly and stepped back. Sighing, I went to the priest.
I stole a glance towards Mr. Great Reporter. The man was tall, big-bodied, dark-brown, and handsome, with eyes the color of his hair and a sharp nose. He was ambitious, always looking cold, and even richer than my father. Twenty years older than me, and only ten years younger than my father. Now the question is, do I want to spend the rest of my life with that man? I tried to tell myself that my doubts were nothing more than nervousness - nervousness at the last second, that's for sure. I tried to believe that this was the same as I had at my previous marriages. But honestly I know this doubt is more than just nervousness. Mr. Hartawan always wanted to be the center of attention. The man has big ambitions and wants to run as part of the people who sit on the bench of government, but that's not the kind of life I want. All I wanted was to marry, raise four or five healthy and happy children, with a man who was more concerned with his wife and children.
Mr. Hartawan and my father and my first brother, made me forget that for a moment. The man had fascinated me with worldly life, courting me in all the best restaurants in town, showering me with flowers and chocolates, and expensive jewels. Trapped in the whirlwind of Mr. Hartawan's creation, I let the man convince me that I love him. Moreover, my father and my brother who managed to convince me that my marriage this time will not be tragic because Mr. Hartawan has strict security around him. They said I definitely won't be widowed again after this. Or at least, even if it happens, I have been lucky to get some fantastic dowries from my future husband.
Oh, my gosh, why don't I listen to my mom?
"He can't make you happy, honey," my mother said twenty minutes ago. "It's not too late to change your mind."
Whats? Not late? It's even too late. I shake my head at doubts. "Is Mama crazy?" I looked into my mother's eyes in the mirror as she put the veil on my head.
Oh my, it's not too late? There was a stack of wedding gifts at the back of my house, a bridal car decorated with flowers was waiting to take us to the airport. The bridal room at one of the most luxurious hotels in Makassar has been booked for us. I'm sighing. I didn't want to go to Makassar for a honeymoon, but Mr. Hartawan has dismissed my objections, saying that we will have fun, assuring me that his business there only takes one day, two days at most. He said we could go to Bali another time.
He looks like he will be a husband who will put me at the number so in his life priorities. More than that, I was actually afraid that my marriage would only last one day. No, it's actually only been a few hours, like my previous three marriages. Then I will return to the status of a widow who is labeled as a pesky carrier woman. I don't want to, even if I get some fantastic dowries for this wedding.
No. gabe. I don't want to.
"And thou, the Full Light of Mahardika," the voice of the pastor brought me back to this time, "receiving the Great Journalist Sentosa...."
My mouth feels dry, my palms are moist. I heard my mother's voice echo in my mind: Do you love her so much that you can't imagine life without her?
And I know the answer is no. I can live and will live without the man, not only in the shadows, in reality I will live even without him.
I know it means I don't love her, it won't be very, it won't be that big.
I looked at Mr. Reporter and, for a moment that felt strange, I saw another face. Hard and masculine face framed dark brown hair. It was coloured with the hair of the man before me but he had pitch-black eyes. A distinctly different face. That face - - the face of my past ex-lover, the man who yelled at me that I would never find a soulmate other than him. The man who yelled at me that I would one day return to his arms. And that, inwardly, is the real reason I can't have this marriage. Notnot now. Not forever. There's only one man that I can't live without, and that's not the Great Sentosa Reporter.
My God, panic suddenly came upon me, I shook Mr. Reporter's hand to get his attention, so that he would focus and listen to me. "I can't do this, sorry."
I have to go!