Is This My Fate? (the accidental bride)

Sunlight spilled through the window like golden confetti, dancing across the ceiling as I lay motionless, staring into nothing. My heart beat a little too loud, a little too fast. That day wasn't just another day-it was everything. My final project presentation. Four grueling years in Theatre Arts, and this performance could crown it all. Top honors, Prevail, I reminded myself, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. No pressure.

After a brisk shower, I slipped into my costume-an elegant white wedding gown with delicate lace sleeves and a train that trailed like a whisper. It shimmered as I twirled in front of the mirror, the satin catching the light like it knew it was about to make history.

Ding!

I reached for my phone, a pit tightening in my stomach. A text from my supervisor: "Venue changed. Don't be late."

No explanation. No direction. Just a pin drop and a command.

Weird. But I shrugged it off. Theatre was unpredictable-this could've been part of the immersion. Maybe they were testing our ability to adapt under pressure.

Snatching my purse, I hurried out the door. The moment I arrived, The venue... wasn't a hall. It was a cathedral.

Massive. Ornate. Breathtaking.

Rows of pristine white chairs lined a silk-draped aisle, flanked by golden vases overflowing with fresh roses. Twinkling fairy lights weaved through the rafters like stars had descended just for this moment.

My heels clicked hesitantly on the marble floor. This... didn't feel like a project venue. This is a fairytale. Or maybe... a nightmare.

Before I could process it, a thunderous applause erupted. I turned sharply, my heart pounding. The crowd was standing. Clapping. Smiling. My breath hitched as my gaze traveled to the altar. And there, waiting at the end of the aisle, was a man in a sleek black tuxedo. Tall. Broad shoulders. Sharp jawline. His piercing eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard. What the hell was happening? A priest stood between us, holding a book. He smiled warmly at me. I forced my feet to move, my gown rustling as I made my way down the aisle. With each step, my confusion deepened.

When I reached the altar, the priest's voice rang out. "Do you, Prevail Tyrel, take this man, Drew Albert, as your lawfully wedded husband?" A chill crawled up my spine. My lips parted, but no words came out. I blinked, looking at Drew, waiting for him to laugh-to tell me this was some elaborate acting exercise. But he didn't. His expression remained unreadable.

This is a mistake. A test. An immersive performance, right? I looked for cameras, classmates, something. But all I saw were strangers waiting for a bride to say yes.

"I..." My voice was barely a whisper. I glanced at the crowd. They were watching expectantly, their smiles unwavering. My pulse roared in my ears. Something wasn't right.

But I had no choice. "Yes... I do." The priest turned to Drew. "Do you, Drew Albert, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Without hesitation, he replied, "Yes, I do."

The hall erupted into cheers. I was frozen in place, my mind spinning. What the hell just happened? The applause thundered in my ears. My hands trembled as I stepped down from the altar, Drew beside me. People swarmed around us, cameras flashing, murmurs of excitement filling the air.

I turned my head, scanning the room. Where were my evaluators? My supervisor? Something was very, very wrong. We reached the photo stand, and Drew placed a firm hand on my waist, pulling me close. I stiffened at the contact.

"Smile," he murmured. Smile? My chest tightened. I forced my lips into something that barely passed as a smile, all while my mind screamed for answers.

Click. Click. Click. The flashes blinded me for a moment. Then, as the noise of the crowd swirled around me, the realization hit me like a slap. No one congratulated me on my presentation. No good job, Prevail. No your performance was amazing.

I turned sharply to Drew, pushing his arm off me. "Excuse me, Mr. Groom-" "Drew," he corrected. "Fine. Drew. Where are the evaluators? Where's my supervisor?" I demanded, my voice rising.

"Why is no one talking about the presentation?" Drew's brows furrowed. "Evaluators? What are you talking about?" A cold shiver crept down my spine. I took a step back, the questions swirling in my mind.

"No, this is just an act. A fake wedding for my presentation." Drew's jaw tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about, but this isn't fake. It's legal. You just married me."

I shook my head, my hands curling into fists. "No. That's impossible. I didn't sign any marriage papers." Drew exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "You did. You signed the contract."

I took a shaky breath. "What contract?" Drew studied me for a long moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to me.

My fingers trembled as I unfolded it. My eyes scanned the text, and my heart plummeted. Marriage Agreement – 18 Months At the bottom, in bold letters, was my name. My signature.

A sharp ringing filled my ears. No. This wasn't possible. I had never signed a marriage contract in my life. I looked up at Drew, my vision blurring. "Where did you get this?"

"From the contract agency. The one that arranged our marriage." I let out a shaky laugh, but it came out more like a gasp. "I don't work for a contract agency." Drew's expression shifted-confusion flickered in his eyes.

"You don't?" "No!" My voice cracked. "I don't know who set this up, but someone tricked me into this marriage." Drew went rigid. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

Then, without a word, he pulled another piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. A letter. I scanned the words. "Hey Drew, my love. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience but don't worry, I've secured someone special for you as your contract bride. She's lovely, and she'll be with you until I return. You'll meet her at the wedding. Stay safe. Love, Sonny Baby."

My grip on the paper tightened. My breathing grew shallow. "Who wrote this?" I asked, my voice dangerously low. "My girlfriend." A cold sensation crawled through my veins.

I lifted my gaze, my whole body trembling. "Does your girlfriend know me?" Drew hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't think so. She must have arranged this through your boss." My nostrils flared. My blood boiled.

"Stop saying that! I don't have a boss! I was set up!" My chest heaved. My entire world tilted. Someone had planned this. Someone had orchestrated this trap.

Drew looked pale now like his brain was finally catching up to the mess.

I pressed my hand against the wall, my knees threatening to buckle. My vision blurred as my throat tightened with unshed tears. "This can't be happening. This can't be real.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced at the screen. Stepmother Calling... A chill ran through my spine. I swallowed hard. Cold fear coiled in my stomach.