The Wedding Night
Alexander, still holding her hand, led her to a grand master bedroom. It was breathtaking—a masterpiece of opulence and elegance. The noise from outside faded as he softly closed the door behind them.
The walls, painted in a deep, almost black shade of grey, absorbed the light. The centrepiece was a large king-sized bed, perfectly made with white silk linens and a grey duvet. Dominating the wall was a circular piece of art—an abstract creation resembling a dark sun or moon with a halo of warm light.
Two modern nightstands flanked the bed, each holding a spherical lamp that glowed softly. Every inch of the room was adorned with reminders of the wealth and power the Sinclair family wielded.
The room was a study in contrasts, darkness and light, rough and smooth, warmth and coolness—all blending together in perfect balance.
Ava Sanders, now Ava Sinclair, stood at the door, taking in the breathtaking details of the grand bedroom.
"Come in, or do you want me to carry you inside?" Alexander's deep, commanding voice broke through her thoughts, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Oh, sorry," Ava mumbled, stepping further into the room. The familiar scent—a blend of bergamot, sandalwood, and a trace of cedarwood, wrapped around her like a ghostly embrace. It was the same scent that lingered on Alexander's skin.
"You should take a shower and get some rest," he said, his voice calm but distant.
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. "What about you?"
Alexander turned to look at her, his expression cold and unreadable. He studied her for a moment before speaking.
"I won't be sleeping here tonight." The words stabbed Ava like a sword through her chest.
"I'll be in the guest room," he continued, turning away as if the conversation was over.
He started toward the door, but Ava hurriedly reached for his hand. Her throat tightened, and tears threatened to spill.
"Alexander, please… this is our wedding night. You can't just leave me alone."
His jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, she thought he might reconsider. But when he spoke again, his voice was even more distant than before.
"Get some rest, Ava. Call the maids if you need anything."
With that, she let go of his hand and stepped back, feeling utterly defeated.
Without another word, Alexander left the room, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving her alone in the heavy silence.
Ava collapsed to the floor, her body shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks. "What's happening? What did I do wrong? Is he already regretting our marriage?"
The questions swirled in her mind like a storm.
Minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity. Eventually, she rose from the floor and made her way to the bed. Sitting on the edge, her delicate fingers traced the patterns of the satin sheets.
Her hopes for a romantic wedding night filled with love and intimacy—the night she had imagined she would finally lose her virginity to the man she had adored for seven years—were fading away.
The door creaked open, and Ava's heart leapt in her chest. She turned quickly, hoping it was Alexander, but instead, it was one of the maids. Her expression was indifferent as she informed Ava that she was there to help her take a shower.
Not wanting anyone to witness her broken state, Ava dismissed the maid politely.
"Thank you, but I'll do it myself," she said, hoping the maid wouldn't insist.
Thankfully, the maid nodded and left without another word, closing the door softly behind her.
Ava took a deep breath, trying to steady the overwhelming emotions within her. There was nothing she could do to change the situation. Slowly, she walked to the bathroom. Her hands trembled as she reached for the zipper of her wedding dress, sliding it off. The lace and satin fell softly to the floor.
The large mirror reflected her pale face, and the tears of a woman left alone on her wedding night. She stood there, feeling a profound sense of loss.
She was still the same girl who had dreamed of a love that would sweep her off her feet, the girl who devoured romantic novels and fantasized about her own happy ending. But tonight, she realized those dreams might remain just that—dreams.
Ava turned away from her reflection and stepped into the shower. The warm water was a welcome distraction, mingling with her tears as they flowed.
When she finally stepped out, her skin was warm, but the coldness inside her remained. She dried herself and wrapped a soft towel around her body. On the bed lay a delicate silk nightgown, beautifully prepared for what should have been a special night.
With a sigh, she slipped into the nightgown and crawled into the massive bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. The sheets were cool against her skin. She had imagined lying in this bed with Alexander, their fingers intertwined as they whispered about their future together. But here she was, alone in the silence, a stark reminder of the emptiness in her marriage.
He had made his intentions clear, whether consciously or not.
Eventually, the exhaustion from the day and the flood of thoughts overwhelmed her. A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that this wasn't the end.
This might not have been the night filled with love and intimacy, but it was the beginning of something new—something she would have to face on her own.
With that last thought, Ava finally gave in to her exhaustion and drifted off to sleep.