Thirty-four

"Hailey!" That was the umpteenth time I zoned out today at this particular spot, and here again I was, with someone calling me back to life.

I blinked angrily, as I widened my eyes in panic mode, taking in my surroundings once again. I had been pulled out of my thoughts by my groom, Xavier.

He was the one that shouted my name earlier. My eyes stared at the man dressed in a white tuxedo and I swallowed, taking my eyes off him again to look around.

We were in the church already, and standing in front of the altar before us—me and my handsome groom—was a priest. There was a crowd in the audience, and many of them were staring at me. I could have sworn that some were glaring at me with murder in their eyes.

Why? I was getting married to the man of their dreams. I was sure if they were given guns or daggers, they would not hesitate to have me dead at any opportunity possible. But little did they know that even I was not happy about this thing we were doing, calling it a wedding.

"Hailey, a