บท 13: A RAY OF HOPE
Two months had passed since Olivia forced herself into Antonio's life, and now it was their wedding week. Despite the deep reservations that gnawed at him, despite the ache in his heart that refused to heal, Antonio found himself going through the motions. The weight of the pack's expectations and the elders' insistence bore down on him like a storm he could not escape. Rachel was still missing, and with every passing day, the void in his life grew deeper. Yet, with no sign of her return and the mounting pressure to solidify his union with Olivia, Antonio had been left with no choice but to play along.
Today, they were out shopping together, a public appearance Olivia had orchestrated to maintain the illusion of a happy, united couple. The store buzzed with the hum of activity, cash registers ringing, the rustle of shopping bags, and the muted conversations of other customers. But to Antonio, it all seemed distant, as though he were moving through a fog.
Olivia's voice cut through the haze, crisp and purposeful. "Antonio, what do you think of this tie?" she asked, holding up a silk piece in a shade of deep crimson.
Antonio glanced at the tie, but the vibrant color barely registered. The shade of red, once a symbol of passion, now only deepened the dull ache that had settled in his chest. "It's fine," he muttered, his voice flat.
Olivia's eyes flicked to him, narrowing slightly in frustration. She forced a smile, masking her irritation as a group of reporters and interviewers approached them, cameras in hand. The bright flashes of light stung Antonio's eyes, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Antonio! Olivia!" one of the interviewers called out, her voice bright and eager as she pushed a microphone toward them. "How are the wedding preparations going?"
The scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne filled the air, mingling with the underlying tension Antonio felt in his chest. Olivia turned on her charm, her voice smooth and practiced. "The preparations are going wonderfully," she said, squeezing Antonio's hand with just the right amount of affection. "We're both overly excited for the big day."
Antonio's grip on Olivia's hand tightened involuntarily, the pressure of the situation bearing down on him. He forced a small, mechanical smile that did not reach his eyes. "Yes, everything is coming together," he managed to say, though his voice was devoid of the enthusiasm one might expect from a groom on the cusp of marriage.
The cameras continued to flash, each burst of light feeling like a stab to his conscience. Antonio's mind was elsewhere, drifting through memories of Rachel. This was supposed to be her, not Olivia—the laughter, the smile, belonged to Rachel. He thought of the way her presence could light up even the darkest of his days. The world around him felt surreal, as if he were an actor playing a part in someone else's life.
Olivia, seemingly oblivious to Antonio's inner turmoil, continued to engage with the interviewers. She spoke of wedding plans, the excitement of the pack, and the bright future that awaited them. Her words were polished, rehearsed, like a speech she'd practiced in front of the mirror. Antonio barely heard her; his thoughts were a million miles away.
As the interviewers wrapped up their questions, Olivia turned to Antonio with a radiant smile, one that seemed to dare him to play along. Her hand lingered on his arm, a gesture meant to convey unity, but to Antonio, it felt more like a chain. He forced himself to meet her gaze, offering a half-hearted smile in return—just enough to satisfy the watching crowd but lacking any real warmth.
"Thank you for your time," Olivia said to the reporters, her tone gracious. "We appreciate all the support."
With that, she linked her arm through Antonio's, guiding him toward the car that waited outside. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the spacious store, each step bringing Antonio closer to a future he didn't want. Outside, the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the parking lot. The air was thick with the scents of summer—freshly cut grass, warm pavement, and the faint aroma of food wafting from a nearby café.
As they walked, Antonio could feel the eyes of the crowd on them, the clicks of cameras capturing every moment. He hated this, the charade, the expectations, the pretense of a life that wasn't his. His hand rested stiffly in Olivia's, a stark contrast to the easy, natural way he had always held Rachel's hand. With Rachel, it had always felt right; with Olivia, it felt like a betrayal.
They reached the car, and Antonio opened the door for Olivia, his movements robotic. As he settled into the back seat beside her, the car's leather interior cool against his skin, he let out a slow, controlled breath, trying to dispel the tension coiling in his chest. But just as he was about to resign himself to the suffocating reality of the moment, something outside the window caught his eye.
A figure was walking into the mall, and for a split second, Antonio's heart skipped a beat. His breath caught in his throat as recognition dawned on him. It was a woman, her stride familiar, her silhouette unmistakable. There was only one person who came to his mind; Rachel.
"Stop the car," Antonio said urgently, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and sudden hope. His heart raced, disbelief threatening to choke him as he fumbled for the door handle. "Stop the car!" he repeated, louder this time, the surge of hope making him tremble.
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