Chapter 149 The Chains Tighten
Carson sat in his room, staring at the tuxedo laid out on the bed. The black fabric looked sharp, perfect — exactly what his mother wanted.
Everything about the upcoming wedding was perfect. Perfect flowers, perfect guest list, perfect decorations. But to him, it all felt wrong.
The house buzzed with excitement. Servants moved in and out, carrying boxes of gold ribbons and trays of fine china. Victoria, his mother, gave orders from the living room, her voice firm and steady.
“Make sure the roses are imported, not local,” she said to one of the planners. “And the chandelier in the hall must be cleaned again. I want no dust in this house when the guests arrive.”
Carson stood by the doorway, watching her. “You’ve already checked everything twice,” he said quietly.
Victoria turned, smiling tightly. “A wedding like this cannot have mistakes, Carson. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event.”
“For you, maybe,” he said under his breath.
She frowned. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” he replied quickly, forcing a small smile.
Victoria eyed him carefully, then returned to her list. “Bridget’s family will be here tomorrow for the rehearsal dinner. I want you to be ready and polite. Do you understand?”
He nodded but didn’t answer. He walked away before she could say more.
Upstairs, the noise faded. His room was the only quiet place left in the mansion. He closed the door and leaned against it, breathing out slowly. His chest felt tight, as if invisible ropes were wrapping around him. Every day that passed made the air heavier.
He sat on the bed and rubbed his temples. He tried not to think about Anabelle — but she kept appearing in his mind, uninvited.
Her smile, her voice, the calm way she used to talk to him. Everything about her had been simple and real. With Bridget, everything felt like glass — shiny, hard, and fragile.
He opened his phone and scrolled through his gallery. He had deleted most of the pictures, but one had remained — a blurry one from a company outing, where Anabelle was laughing in the background. His thumb hovered over it. He couldn’t bring himself to delete it.
A soft knock came on the door. “Carson?”
It was Bridget. Her voice was sweet, but it carried something sharp beneath it.
“Come in,” he said quietly.
She entered wearing a cream-colored dress, her makeup perfect, her hair neatly curled. She looked like someone from a magazine. She smiled, but her eyes were cold. “You’ve been hiding in here all day,” she said lightly. “You should come downstairs. Everyone’s asking where you are.”
“I just needed some quiet,” he said.
“Quiet?” she repeated, walking closer. “You’ll have plenty of that after the wedding, when you finally stop overthinking everything.”
He frowned. “Overthinking?”
She laughed softly and touched his arm. “You worry too much, Carson. Everything’s fine. Our families are happy, the arrangements are perfect, and soon, everything will fall into place.”
He pulled his arm away gently. “That’s the problem, Bridget. Everything is ‘perfect.’ It feels fake.”
Her smile faded. “Fake? You think our wedding is fake?”
“I think we are,” he said quietly.
Bridget stared at him for a long time. “You don’t mean that,” she said finally.
He didn’t answer.
Her tone hardened. “You’re just nervous. Everyone gets nervous before big changes. But after the wedding, you’ll see — it’ll all make sense.”
He gave a small, tired laugh. “You sound like my mother.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said coldly.
She turned to leave, then stopped at the door. “Don’t embarrass me in front of my family tomorrow,” she said without looking back. “Smile. Act like you’re happy. People are watching.”
The door closed softly behind her, but her words stayed.
Carson sat still for a long time. The room felt smaller now. He stood and walked to the window, looking out at the garden below. Workers were setting up white chairs and golden ribbons. The sight should have made him proud — it only made him feel trapped.
Later that night, he went downstairs. The chandeliers glowed, the air smelled like flowers. Victoria sat on the couch, flipping through a wedding catalog.
“You look tired,” she said without looking up.
“I am,” he said.
“You’ll feel better once the ceremony is over,” she said cheerfully. “You’re doing the right thing, Carson. Marrying Bridget will secure our business ties. Her family’s influence will help us expand.”
He clenched his jaw. “And what about love?”
She finally looked up. “Love?” She smiled faintly. “Love comes later. Stability comes first.”
He stared at her. “You really believe that?”
“It’s how I built this family,” she said proudly. “Don’t ruin it with childish emotions.”
He shook his head slowly and walked away.
That night, he couldn’t sleep. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The house was silent now, but the silence didn’t bring peace. His thoughts moved endlessly.
He thought of Anabelle’s laughter. The warmth in her eyes. The way she had believed in him even when he didn’t deserve it. He missed that honesty, that softness that no one else had.
He wondered where she was, what she was doing. Did she still think about him? Or had she finally erased him from her life completely?
He turned over and covered his face with his hands. His chest hurt. The wedding was only three days away, yet every part of him wanted to run.
He got up and went to the balcony. The moon hung high above, pale and distant. The night air was cool, brushing against his face. He gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles white.
He could almost hear her voice in his mind — “You don’t have to stay somewhere that kills your spirit.”
She had said that once, long ago, when he complained about his job. He hadn’t listened then.
Now, her words echoed louder than ever.
Behind him, the door opened again. Victoria stood there, wearing her silk robe. “You shouldn’t be out here,” she said softly. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“I’m fine,” he said without turning.
She stepped closer. “You’re nervous. That’s all. It’s normal.”
He stayed silent.
“Carson,” she said, her tone firm now. “This marriage is not just about you. It’s about our family’s future. Don’t disappoint me.”
He turned then, his face pale in the moonlight. “You mean your future,” he said quietly.
She frowned, but before she could respond, he walked past her and went back inside.
When the door closed behind him, Victoria stood still for a moment. Her expression was unreadable.
Inside, Carson sat on the edge of his bed again. The tuxedo still lay there, untouched. He stared at it for a long time, his throat tight.
He knew he couldn’t go through with it — but he also knew he didn’t have the strength to fight everyone at once.
The wedding wasn’t just a ceremony anymore. It was a chain — gold and shining, but a chain all the same.
And with every passing day, it tightened around him, leaving less air to breathe.