Substitute Bride; My Husband's Mistakes

Chapter 2

(Celine's POV)

The following day was the wedding day. The maids dressed me up in my twin sister’s room so that the guests would believe I was Clara. I hadn’t thought this day would arrive—me, helping my famous sister cover up for her wedding.

I donned a long white wedding dress that swept the ground as I walked. The makeup artist applied heavy makeup to my face, and I hated to say it, but I didn’t like makeup.

I sat there and allowed them to transform me into my sister’s preferred choice of wedding attire: a gown with my bare back exposed and my bréasts on full display.

This was not the wedding day I had dreamed of—me, taking my twin sister’s place as the bride while she was actually alive and modeling in another state.

“Mmm,” I sighed once the makeup artist was done. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and couldn’t believe the woman staring back at me.

Soon, my father arrived, dressed in a tailored black suit paired with polished black shoes. He asked me, “Are you ready, Clara? You look so beautiful.”

I saw the proud smile on my father’s face. He was seeing me as Clara, his most treasured daughter, and not Celine, the one who wanted to marry a pauper.

I shut my eyes and mimicked my twin sister’s composure—the way she smiled with a wide grin on her face.

“Yes, Dad,” I said, stretching the smile further. I wondered how long I could keep up this act.

“Let’s go.” My father escorted me, and I saw the black Bentley waiting outside to take me to the wedding.

I had never sat in a Bentley before, so I was nervous. I wasn’t my sister, who traveled from one location to another, going on vacations with her rich boyfriend sponsoring all her trips.

My father and I sat in an eerie silence as the driver started the car and drove us to the wedding venue.

I was nervous as the car ride continued until we arrived at the grand church where the wedding was to be held.

I sucked in a deep breath as I got out of the car. The lined-up maids welcomed me by spreading red flowers as I stepped down.

This was an elite wedding. My father held my left hand tenderly and escorted me into the church, which was packed with top-notch guests.

My heartbeat grew louder in my chest with each step I took into the church, nearing the altar where Clara’s fiancé, Jace Augustus, stood.

Jace was a tall, refined, dark-skinned man. Clara was so lucky to have him.

Jace was still a hot bachelor at thirty-five years old. He was not a man to mess with.

Seeing him standing so close to me as my father and I finally arrived at the altar—where Dad handed me over to Jace for the priest to join us in holy matrimony—I felt nervous, as if I might faint at any moment.

Jace smiled and lifted my veil to reveal my face to him.

I gulped hard and recalled that I was not Clara and that I must act like her.

How would Clara have reacted on her own wedding day? Excited? Emotional? Or casual? I didn’t know, but I smiled widely so that Jace wouldn’t think otherwise as his black eyes met my blue eyes for a brief moment.

I grinned wider so that Jace wouldn’t think I wasn’t his woman. I had heard from Clara that Jace had never cheated on her, despite his influence and how many women wanted him.

Jace was very handsome and looked like a Greek god as he stood there, towering above me.

Clara and I were of average height, and thanks to the heels she had chosen for me to wear—this being her preferred wedding dress and shoes—I was closer to his level.

“Can we start the union?” The priest’s voice brought us back to reality. Jace stepped aside while the priest recited the prayers and joined us as one.

“Do you, Clara Mason, take Jace Augustus to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

I looked at my twin sister’s fiancé’s face—the man who was about to become my husband. If only he knew I wasn’t Clara, his woman.

Jace smiled, wanting me to say “I do,” as he saw that I looked so hesitant to say the words to him.

The priest continued, “Do you promise to love and obey him, and to be faithful to him, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” I replied, shutting my blue eyes because I was unable to meet Jace’s gaze. Then the priest asked Jace the same question: “Do you, Jace Augustus, take Clara Mason to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Jace replied as the priest asked him once more, “Do you promise to love and cherish her, and to be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Jace said, smiling and looking at me like I was his real bride. He looked genuinely happy to be wedded to me, thinking I was my twin sister.

“I now pronounce you both man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest concluded just as Jace and I recited our vows and exchanged the wedding rings.

I was hesitant to wear his ring, which symbolized love, trust, and commitment. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, as if I were acting in a movie as my twin sister’s replacement.

Jace slipped the diamond ring onto my finger, and I shut my eyes as he pulled me closer and sealed his lips on mine, not bothering to see if I desired to kiss him or not.

His lips claimed mine, kissing me tenderly at first, as the hall erupted in a round of applause for us and well-wishers screamed congratulations on our married life.

Jace pulled away from the kiss after a while of kissing me fervently, and he gazed into my eyes as if he already suspected I wasn’t his bride.

We took pictures with his parents, who were every bit as happy about the wedding as my own parents. I stood there anxiously, posing for several photos with the priest, my parents, Jace’s parents, the bridesmaids, and the best man.

Lily, my sister’s best friend and the bridesmaid of honour, hugged me excitedly and squealed, “Congratulations, Clara! I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.” We took more wedding pictures in the church until Jace held my hand closely and kissed my lips once more.

“Come on, my wife. You don’t have to act shy like this is the first time we’re kissing. Let’s go to our wedding reception.” Jace lifted me off the ground, and I was stunned as he carried me away in that firm, masculine arms.

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t Clara. This had to stop. Should I tell him the truth or continue acting as my sister’s replacement?

I shut my eyes, inhaling Jace’s cologne; he had a relaxing aroma.