ROOM 7
Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Wedding
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The wedding was scheduled for a Saturday. Three months after the engagement. Three months of living in Yuri's house. Three months of pretending. Three months of Keifer waiting in the apartment across the hall from Lyra and Alex, the shark on his pillow, Bruce on hers, the city bright outside his window.
Jay woke up on the morning of her wedding in a room that wasn't hers. The bed was too soft. The sheets were too white. The windows faced a garden she didn't care about. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to the house wake up around her.
Yuri's mother was already moving downstairs. She could hear her voice, bright and busy, directing caterers, florists, photographers. Yuri's father was in his study, making calls, finalizing arrangements. Yuri was somewhere else. She didn't know where. She didn't care.
She sat up. The shark was on the pillow beside her. The only thing she'd brought from her old life. The only thing that felt like home.
She touched its fin. Closed her eyes.
"Keifer," she whispered.
No one answered.
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Part One: The Dress
The dress was white. Long. Silk. Lace on the sleeves. A train that stretched behind her like a river. Yuri's mother had chosen it. Yuri's mother had paid for it. Yuri's mother had watched her try it on, tears in her eyes, saying how beautiful she looked.
Jay stood in front of the mirror. The woman looking back at her was a stranger. Pale. Hollow. Her eyes were empty. Her hands were steady.
"Ms. Mariano?" The makeup artist appeared behind her. "It's time."
She nodded. Sat in the chair. Closed her eyes. Let them paint her face. Let them pin her hair. Let them turn her into someone else.
When they finished, she opened her eyes. The woman in the mirror was beautiful. Flawless. Cold.
Yuri's mother walked in. Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Jay. You look—" She stopped. Her eyes filled with tears. "You look perfect."
Jay stood. "Thank you, Tita."
Yuri's mother hugged her. Held her tight. "I've always wanted a daughter."
Jay hugged her back. Didn't say anything.
The door opened. Yuri's father appeared. He was wearing a gray suit. His hair was combed. His eyes were kind.
"The car is here," he said. "It's time."
Jay walked to the door. Stopped. Looked back at the room. At the bed. At the shark on the pillow.
She left it there.
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Part Two: The Church
The church was full.
Hundreds of guests. Flowers everywhere. White roses, white lilies, white orchids. The aisle was long. The ceiling was high. The light through the stained glass windows was gold.
Jay stood at the entrance. Her father was beside her. His arm was linked through hers. His hand was shaking.
"Jay," he said. His voice was low. "You don't have to do this."
She looked at the altar. At Yuri standing there, waiting. At the priest beside him. At the guests watching.
"Yes," she said. "I do."
Her father's jaw tightened. "We can still fight."
She squeezed his arm. "It's too late."
She walked.
The organ played. The guests turned. Cameras flashed. She kept her eyes forward. On the altar. On Yuri. On the life that was waiting for her.
She didn't look for Keifer. She knew he wasn't there. She'd told him not to come.
Her father stopped at the altar. Kissed her cheek. Whispered, "I'm sorry."
She nodded. He stepped back.
Yuri took her hand. His fingers were warm. His face was calm. His eyes were dark.
"You're beautiful," he said.
She looked at him. At the man who had threatened her family. The man who had given her no choice. The man she was about to marry.
"Let's get this over with," she said.
His jaw tightened. He turned to face the priest.
The ceremony began.
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Part Three: The Vows
The priest spoke. Words about love. Words about commitment. Words about forever.
Jay didn't listen. She was looking at the stained glass windows. At the light filtering through. At the dust motes floating in the air.
"Repeat after me," the priest said.
Yuri went first. His voice was steady. "I, Yuri, take you, Jay, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."
The priest looked at Jay. "Repeat after me."
She opened her mouth. The words wouldn't come.
"Jay." Yuri's voice was low. "Say it."
She looked at his face. At his eyes. At the man she had once called a friend.
"I, Jay—" She stopped.
The church was silent. The guests were watching. Her father was watching. Yuri's parents were watching.
She took a breath.
"I, Jay, take you, Yuri, to be my lawfully wedded husband."
Her voice was flat. Hollow. The words tasted like ash.
She finished the vows. She didn't mean a single one.
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Part Four: The Rings
Yuri's mother handed him the ring. Gold. Simple. Expensive.
He took Jay's hand. Slipped the ring onto her finger. It was cold. Heavy. It felt like a shackle.
Jay's father handed her the ring. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wet.
She took Yuri's hand. Slipped the ring onto his finger. Her hands were steady. Her eyes were dry.
"By the power vested in me," the priest said, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
He paused. Smiled. "You may kiss the bride."
Yuri stepped closer. His hand touched her face. His thumb traced her cheekbone. His lips brushed hers.
She didn't kiss him back. She stood still. Her hands hung at her sides. Her eyes were open.
He pulled back. His face was calm. His eyes were dark.
"Mrs. Hanamitchi," he said.
She looked at him. "Mrs. Hanamitchi."
The organ played. The guests applauded. Her father was crying. Yuri's mother was crying. Yuri's father was smiling.
Jay walked down the aisle. Yuri's hand was on her back. His fingers pressed into her spine.
She didn't shiver. She didn't feel anything at all.
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Part Five: The Reception
The reception was at Yuri's parents' house.
Tents in the garden. Tables covered in white cloth. Flowers everywhere. Music playing. People dancing. Champagne flowing.
Jay sat at the head table. Yuri beside her. His hand was on her knee. His fingers were warm.
"You haven't eaten," he said.
She looked at her plate. The food was cold. "I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat."
She picked up her fork. Took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Tasted nothing.
Yuri's mother appeared. "Jay! The cake!"
A cart rolled out. Five tiers. White icing. Flowers on every layer. Yuri's mother was crying again.
Jay stood. Walked to the cake. Yuri followed. His hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined.
"Make a wish," someone shouted.
Jay looked at the cake. At the flowers. At the knife in her hand.
She made a wish. She wished she was somewhere else. Anyone else. Anyone but here.
They cut the cake. The guests cheered. Yuri's mother took photos. Yuri's father made a speech.
Jay sat back down. Yuri's hand was on her knee. His fingers were warm.
She didn't feel anything at all.
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Part Six: The First Dance
The band played a slow song. Something romantic. Something Yuri's mother had chosen.
Yuri stood. Held out his hand. "Dance with me."
She looked at his hand. At his face. At the man who had stolen her life.
She took his hand. He pulled her to the dance floor. His arm went around her waist. Her hand went to his shoulder.
"You're not dancing," he said.
"I'm standing."
He pulled her closer. "Dance."
She moved. Stiff. Mechanical. Her eyes were on the window. On the garden beyond. On the gate that led to the street.
"Jay."
She looked at him.
"You're my wife now."
She nodded. "I know."
"You could try to be happy."
She laughed. It was hollow. "Happy?"
He stopped dancing. His hands were on her waist. His face was inches from hers.
"I didn't want it to be like this."
She stared at him. "Then why did you make it like this?"
He didn't answer.
She pulled away. Walked off the dance floor. Through the garden. Toward the gate.
"Jay."
She didn't stop.
"Jay."
She reached the gate. Her hand was on the latch.
"If you walk out that gate," Yuri said, "I'll destroy everything."
She turned. Looked at him. At the man she had once called a friend.
"Then destroy it," she said.
She opened the gate. Walked through. Didn't look back.
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Part Seven: The Street
The street was quiet. The lights were on. The stars were hidden.
She walked. Her heels clicked on the pavement. Her dress trailed behind her. Her hair was falling out of its pins.
She didn't know where she was going. She didn't care.
Her phone rang. She looked at the screen. Keifer.
She answered.
"Jay."
"Keifer."
"Where are you?"
She looked at the street. At the houses. At the city beyond.
"I don't know."
"Stay there. I'm coming."
She stopped walking. Leaned against a wall. The brick was cold against her back.
"Keifer."
"Yeah."
"I left him."
She heard him breathe. Heard him start the car. Heard the engine roar.
"I'm coming," he said.
She closed her eyes. "I love you."
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "I love you too."
She slid down the wall. Sat on the sidewalk. Her dress pooled around her. Her hair fell in her face. The ring on her finger caught the light.
She pulled it off. Looked at it. Gold. Simple. Expensive.
She threw it into the street.
It bounced. Rolled. Disappeared into a drain.
She watched it go. Didn't feel anything at all.
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Part Eight: The Arrival
Keifer's car appeared at the end of the street. Headlights cutting through the dark. Engine roaring.
He stopped in front of her. Got out. Ran to her.
She looked up at him. His face was tired. His eyes were red. His hands were shaking.
He knelt beside her. Touched her face. "Jay."
"Keifer."
He pulled her into his arms. She held him. His face was in her hair. His arms were around her. His voice was broken.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She shook her head. "Don't be."
He pulled back. Looked at her face. At the dress. At the empty space on her finger.
"The ring," he said.
She looked at her hand. "I threw it away."
He kissed her forehead. "Good."
He helped her stand. Helped her into the car. Closed the door. Walked around to the driver's side.
She looked out the window. At the street. At the houses. At the life she was leaving behind.
"Keifer."
He looked at her.
"Take me home."
He took her hand. "I'm taking you home."
He drove. The city passed by. The lights blurred. The night was dark.
She leaned her head against the window. Closed her eyes.
She didn't know what would happen tomorrow. She didn't know if Yuri would keep his threats. She didn't know if her father's company would survive.
She didn't care.
She was going home.
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End of Chapter Fifty-Seven