The wedding photo

After they left the company they made their way to the photo studio for the wedding photo. Even though it was just a contractual marriage the wedding photo was needed to make it look real.

The studio smelled like fresh roses and vintage perfume, and Elina had never felt more like a prop. She had only one word to describe her situation and that was manhandling.

The stylists swarmed around her, tugging at her waist, fluffing the delicate folds of her satin gown, pinning her hair with precision. The dress that was given to her by Oswal’s assistant was a gown—chosen by Cooper Global’s PR team—it was elegant, understated, and clinical. White, but joyless just like her marriage which was loveless. It felt like a costume for a role she hadn’t auditioned for and not like a wedding gown that most women crave for.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and hated how beautiful it looked on her.

Across the room, Oswal stood with the posture of a man who didn’t flinch, even when trapped in his own façade. The navy suit, the silver cufflinks, the glint of his family’s crest pinned near his lapel—it all screamed control. Power. Restraint.

Elina watched him through the mirror, and he watched her, their reflections the only place they were brave enough to truly look at each other. Oswal was stunned by her looks. She looked so beautiful that he wanted to walk straight to her and take her hand in his and announce to the whole world that she was his. But he was too scared. Afraid that she would hate him.

Once they both were ready. They heard “You’ll stand here,” the photographer instructed, gesturing toward a mock floral arch, complete with a symbolic aisle. “Hold hands. Closer, if you don’t mind.”

Oswal moved first.

He reached for her hand, and the brush of his skin against hers sent a silent tremor through her ribs. She hated that it still did this. Hated more that he probably felt nothing. She had thought that maybe she would be numb to the feelings by now but the reality was that he was able to make her heart tremble even today.

She wanted to pull away but his fingers closed a little too tightly around hers.

“Softer,” the photographer directed. They heard him instruct with a sigh “More warmth. You're newlyweds, not co-workers.”

When they heard the instructions the two quickly composed themselves.

Elina smiled.

So did Oswal.

They were perfect liars.

The flash went off.

After the first picture the cameraman continued

“Turn toward her, Mr. Cooper,” he called. “A little tilt of the head. Yes—gaze into her eyes.”

Elina pursed her lips at the instructions, she didn’t dare look at him. She felt him shift making her nerves tense. He was close now, too close.

“You’re tense,” he murmured next to her ear.

She fought the feeling of blood rushing to her ear and tilted her chin up looking dead into his eyes. “Maybe because this doesn’t feel real.”

His brow twitched, almost imperceptibly. “It is real. Just not the way it should have been.”

She blinked, heart stumbling. Her imagination runs wild. “Should have been?” Her thoughts are a jumbled mess wondering if he really wanted to marry her out of business or out of love?

He looked away and cleared his throat. “Nothing. Just smile.”

But the words hovered between them, heavier than the bouquet in her hand.

Should have been.

There had been a time, years ago, when she’d imagined her wedding to Oswal would be real. Messy. Loud. Filled with laughter and dancing. Not a sterile PR stunt under studio lights. But the reality was cruel. She did get a wedding but the warmth and the happiness was missing from it.

“Last shot,” the photographer said. “Kiss her forehead. Just a soft moment.”

They both turned stiff.

Oswal glanced at her, eyes unreadable. He wanted to simply pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he did before but he thought that he no longer had the authority to do that.

He softly said “I can skip that if—”

“No,” Elina interrupted. “Go ahead. Let’s give them what they want.”

Oswal moved closer, slowly, like he was unsure where the boundary was anymore.

His hand cradled the back of her head, and his lips brushed her forehead—barely there, but more honest than anything they’d said in the last hour.

Elina closed her eyes. Just for a second. Just to feel it.

But when she opened them again, something in her chest ached.

Because he still hadn’t said anything real.

And neither had she.

---

Backstage, after the shoot, Elina changed into a simple cream blouse and black trousers, removing the layers of illusion. She finally felt that the gown was way too heavy to her conscience as she never expected to get married to someone who doesn’t love her. When she emerged, Oswal was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.

She was surprised to look at him waiting for her. She walked up to him and cooed “You waited?”

He looked up. “You’re my wife now. Temporary or not.”

“Right,” she said. “Chivalry for the cameras.”

“Not everything I do is for the cameras, Elina.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

He stared at her. “Why are you always assuming the worst of me?”

She crossed her arms. “Because you left without a word seven years ago.”

“I had reasons—”

“Don’t. Just… don’t say it.”

He stepped closer. “Then why did you say yes to this?”

She hesitated. “Because I needed the money.”

His expression flickered.