The grand illusion of our wedding day—the flowers, the hushed whispers, the orchestrated perfection. Pink and white petals adorned every corner, as if trying to convince us that love bloomed here. But my heart remained stubbornly unyielding.

The guest list was a mere whisper of what weddings usually entailed. I’d invited only a handful—those who’d understand the unspoken pact between Kai and me. Their smiles were genuine, their eyes hopeful. They saw a union; I saw a transaction.

The elusive Kai—like a shadow slipping through the cracks. My cousins, ever persistent, insisted on an introduction. So I went on a mission to unearth the enigma himself.

The room was a sanctuary of solitude, and there stood Kai—alone, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. I knocked, my heart fluttering like a trapped bird. “My friends and cousins want to meet you,” I announced, my voice too bright for the occasion.

His response? The usual monosyllabic “Oh!” I wondered if he’d ever uttered a sentence longer than three words. But introductions awaited, so I led him out, presenting him as my husband. The words tasted foreign on my tongue, like a borrowed script.

My friends and cousins swarmed him, recounting tales of our shared past. Kai listened, an attentive spectator. Meanwhile, Ora—the irreverent confidante—whispered in my ear, “He’s damn sexy. Let me know how your first night was.” I winked back, silently agreeing. Let’s make this charade interesting, shall we?

And then, a surprise: Tae Hyun, the other guy from the accident, appeared. “Hi, sister,” he said. “It’s me, Tae Hyun—Kai’s best friend.” Ora greeted him with familiarity, and I wondered if fate reveled in reunions.

Ora transformed me into an ethereal vision. The gown, the necklace—it all felt orchestrated, as if the universe conspired to make this moment unforgettable. But as I stared at my reflection, nerves gnawed at me. “Ora, I’m really getting tense,” I confessed.

Her solution? “Let’s have a drink!” She produced beer bottles from her bag. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to drink when I’m stressed.” We clinked bottles, hugged, and laughed. But I kept my secret locked away: the contract, the pretense, the heart that refused to obey logic.

My father led me down the aisle, his grip steady. “Sai, are you drunk?” he whispered. I denied it, but my legs wobbled. “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “I did the same thing on my wedding.” His wink was a lifeline.

And there he was—Kai, waiting. Our hands touched, and warmth spread through my veins. Why did my heart race? Was it fear or something else entirely? As we faced each other, vows hanging in the air, I wondered if this improbable union held more than practicality. Maybe—just maybe—our hearts were whispering secrets, daring to defy the script.