Keeping his bride

Selina

I STARE AT myself in the mirror of the dressing room and can’t stop scowling. I feel so strange in these clothes. “How does it look?” Aria calls from outside the door.

I frown as I glimpse at the short but modest, pretty floral dress and jeweled sandals. “I look like an idiot,” I call back, being brutally honest.

“I’m sure you don’t, Selina,” she huffs. “Just…just let me see you.”

My frown deepens. I haven’t showed her the past fifteen or so outfits she forced me to try on, so I guess I’ll show her this one. Just to shut her up, I tell myself mentally.

When I push my way out of the thick curtain for the lavish changing room, Aria actually gasps loudly.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Oh, that’s the one!” she says with a huge smile, as if we just chose my perfect wedding dress or something. “You don’t think it’s too…” “Too?” she prompts.

“I don’t know,” I say with a frustrated huff. I want to say too normal, but I refrain. When I was under Constantine’s rule, I either wore next to nothing or the skimpiest, sexiest dress money could buy. If I wasn’t almost naked, I looked like a hooker. There was no in between. There was definitely nothing like this.

“It’s perfect for your figure.” She grips my shoulders and leads me over to the bright lights over a wall of mirrors. “You can see better out here. Those dressing room mirrors are shit,” she assures me.

I stare at myself in my many reflections, but only for a moment before my eyes automatically go to the floor. Biting my lip, I shake my head solemnly. I can’t even look at myself without feeling a myriad of emotions, and that makes me sad, depressed, angry – hell, all of the above and then some.

“I wish I had your long legs,” Aria comments with a sigh as she sits in a nearby chair, swinging her shorter legs in the air since her feet don’t touch the ground.

Aria is petite, almost a foot shorter than me. But her height doesn’t do anything to take away from her beauty. Just like Nico took after his father in the looks department, Aria is an exact replica of her mother. I always thought her mother was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even as Verona has aged over the years, she’s still stunning.

My eyes slowly glance over my outfit in the mirror until I meet my own gaze. Aria voicing her insecurities about her height makes me realize that everyone has insecurities, even the people who appear to be flawless and perfect on the outside. I need to stop overanalyzing every little thing wrong with me and just focus on living. I just spent a whole day of shopping without a care in the world, and I never thought I’d be able to do something like that. My life is moving forward and changing for the better, and I need to just jump on and enjoy the ride.

“So, do you like it?” Aria asks, and I can tell she’s on the edge of her seat, waiting for my answer.

“I do,” I tell her. “You were right – the dressing room mirrors are shit. The dress looks so much better out here.”

Aria smiles widely and nods in agreement. “Told you.” She hops up out of her seat and tells one of the retail workers that I’ll be wearing my outfit home.

“Yes, of course, Ms. Vitale. I’ll ring everything up right away,” the woman says before walking away.

I’m still scrutinizing myself in the mirror when Aria tells me, “Nico’s gonna love it.”

Her comment catches me off-guard. The thought of Nico seeing me dressed up has butterflies taking flight inside my stomach. I like him. I really like him. But for some reason, I keep pushing him away. I don’t ever let our small touches go anywhere even though sometimes I really want them to.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want him tainted.

I’m dirty.

Used up.

Broken.

Sighing heavily, I try to shake the bad thoughts out of my head. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as Aria hands over a few bags to one of the nearby bodyguards, who accepts them without question, before taking a few steps back away from us.

“Do you ever get tired of them being around?” I ask her in a hushed whisper.

She shrugs her right shoulder. “I’m used to it. It’s been like this my whole life. I guess I don’t know any other way,” she confesses.

From what Nico has told me and from what I’ve seen, it’s almost like Aria is a prisoner in her own home. Her parents never let her leave the house on her own. And I can’t help but wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Vitale tightened their grip on their daughter after I was taken not once, but twice.

I can’ fully blame them for being ov rprotective, however. My life would have been completely different if I would have been blessed with a helicopter parent instead of the terrible person who gave birth to me. I was sold by my own mother…twice. And if my own mother can do something so heinous, then anything could happen to Aria. I’m just happy she never had to go through what I did. Even if that means being locked up inside an ivory tower, I would take that fate over mine any day.

“My brother is different with you,” Aria says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“What do you mean?” I ask, turning to her.

“He’s always so moody and closed off. Been like that for as long as I can remember. But when you’re around, I can see a light breaking out inside all of that darkness. He’s so patient and gentle with you,” she explains.

I want to ask her why she thinks that is, but I’m afraid of her answer. I think deep down Nico loves me…or at least maybe thinks he does. But a big part of me wishes he would just get over me and move on with a normal girl. Someone who isn’t so messed up. Someone who can make him happy. Someone without so many issues. He deserves so much better than me, so much more than I can offer him.

Aria comes up from behind me, and I watch her reflection in the mirror. She takes a lock of my long blonde hair and curls it around her finger. Looking up at me, she asks, “What do you think about going to the hair salon next?”

My eyes meet my own in the reflection. A smile twitches at the corner of my mouth as I nod emphatically. I’ve been wanting to cut my hair for years, and now I have no one standing in the way of my decision. No one telling me what I can or cannot do. This is the sense of freedom that I’ve been craving. And I so desperately want to be free.