He holds me tightly.
“My beautiful girl,” he says tearfully. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”
“Me?” I laugh through tears. “I’m happyyou’resafe! What are you doing here?”
He looks down at me with a mixture of pride and a little sadness. “Mr. Markov wanted to make sure I was available to walk my baby girl down the aisle at her wedding.”
“My wedding?” I ask.
“Yes,” my father replies. “And I’m so sorry about the first one. I really thought Kostya was a good man. He buttered me up something fierce and I fell for it. I will never be able to apologize to you enough for that.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” I say and give him another hug. “Now let’s go get you married to a real man.”
His words stop me in my tracks. I look at the blockades on either end of the street, then crane my neck to look inside. There’s a young assistant waiting for me with a headset. She’s a stranger, but she’s motioning at me, like she’s been waiting for me all day.
“I’ll leave you to get to it,” my dad says, reluctantly letting me go. “I’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready.”
Dazed, I walk away from him and follow the woman into the restaurant. Caterers are still setting everything up, and Andrei is nowhere to be found. There’s a string quartet in a corner already warming up for the ceremony. It’s all a lot to take in.
The woman leads me to a private room in the back. There’s a full-length mirror, a chair, and soft track lighting. Against one wall, my dress is hanging up, just ready to be put on. This is really happening.
The woman has me sit in the chair and another woman comes in, rolling a huge suitcase. She must be my glam squad. Sure enough, she spends the next hour curling my hair and applying my makeup until I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself.
Then, the assistant pulls my dress off the wall and starts helping me into it. The whole scene is so bizarre and surreal. I don’t even know this woman’s name.
When I’m all zipped into the dress, there’s a soft knock at the door. My father pokes his head in and when I look at him, his eyes begin to water again.
“You’re a beautiful bride,” he says joyfully. “I always knew you would be.”
What can I possibly say to that? That none of this is real? That this wedding is all for show?
No, I can’t tell him that. So, instead, I grab on to his arm.
“You ready to give me away?” I ask him.
“I’ve only just gotten you back,” he says a little sadly. “But yes, I’m ready to see my little girl married to a man who loves her.”
I nearly laugh at this. What exactly has Andrei told him? I can’t even imagine at this point. All I know is that we’re walking down a velvet aisle that feels insanely soft underneath my high heels.
I look down to assess the deep red, stretching forward between rows of people who turn to watch as we walk. The music swells gently around us, soft enough that it feels private even in a crowded room.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it.
“Steady on,” my dad whispers in my ear. “There’s only one person here who matters.”
I look ahead and see Andrei waiting for me there, stiff and still as he’s ever been. He doesn’t even smile at me as I walk toward him. Part of me wants to cry. Another part wants to run away from this farce of a wedding.
Only because I want it to be real. I want him to be so in love with me that everyone in the room can see it on his face. I want to feel butterflies and an odd sense of calm that I always hear other people talk about. I want to know that I’m about to say “I do” to a man that I’ll always love and care for.
Instead, I feel sad. Not in the same way I felt when I was walking toward Kostya and watching him screw a waitress. Sad because Andrei could actually be the love of my life. Sad because we could be parents to a perfectly happy baby and live a mostly normal life.
He takes my hands when I reach the end of the aisle. His are warm and steady. He holds onto mine carefully, like he’s afraidI might disappear if he grips too tightly.Maybe I will,I think almost hysterically. Maybe I should.
The vows pass in a blur of words I barely process. We make promises to one another. Fake promises. The priest talks about tradition and the sacred vow we’re making. He calls upon all the witnesses gathered to testify to our union.
When he slides the ring onto my finger, the diamond catches the light in a way that makes the room tilt slightly. It’s unbelievably beautiful and heavy. It’s probably the only thing in this whole ceremony that’s genuine.
Then he kisses me. It’s soft and brief, and controlled in a way that he just can’t seem to help. Despite that, my knees actually go weak. If his hands weren’t already holding me upright, I might have fallen right there in front of everyone.
