“Don’t be afraid. No one will ever lay a finger on you. When you get married, you won’t have to go through these old customs either. Don’t cry…”
Only after soothing Sophia for a long while did Ryan finally remember me.
But his words to me were awkward, forced.
“Emily, don’t be scared. I’m here. We don’t have to put up with this anymore.”
“We can skip this step and move on to the ceremony.”
He tried to hold my hand—
But I slapped it away.
He froze, unease filling his eyes, like something precious was slipping away.
Panicked, he chased after me.
I grabbed a blanket to cover myself, kicked open the doors—
And there it was: the wedding hall full of guests.
At the front sat Mrs. Miller. When she saw my disheveled state, her face darkened.
“With all this fuss, how can you be my daughter-in-law?”
I glared at the woman who had ordered me around daily, and spat back:
“I’m not marrying him!”
But before I could take another step, the giant screen in the hall lit up, projecting videos and pictures of the groomsmen’s assault on me.
Every shameful moment was blown up, exposed to all.
Guests whistled, some hollered crudely:
“Why not let us guests have a turn too?”