Nikola’s Awakening: A Bride’s Escape from a Brazen Family

“Nikola, wake up! It’s your wedding day!” The shrill voice of my mother echoed through the small room, pulling me from my restless sleep. I groggily opened my eyes to the dim light filtering through the curtains. My heart pounded with a mix of excitement and dread. Today was the day I was supposed to marry Oskar, the man I had loved for years. But as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly off.

I had been up before dawn, determined to start the day right by making Oskar his favorite breakfast—syrniki. The kitchen was filled with the comforting smell of fried cheese pancakes when Oskar finally stumbled in, bleary-eyed but smiling.

“Morning, love,” he said, kissing my forehead as he sat down. I placed a plate of perfectly golden syrniki in front of him, along with a small bowl of sour cream.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to mask my unease with a smile.

As Oskar devoured the breakfast, my mind wandered back to our engagement. His family had always been a source of tension between us. They were overbearing, often treating me with thinly veiled disdain. His mother, in particular, never missed an opportunity to remind me that no one would ever be good enough for her son. I had brushed it off as typical mother-in-law behavior, but now, on the cusp of becoming part of their family, those dismissals felt like chains tightening around my future.

Later that morning, dressed in my wedding gown, I stood in front of the mirror, taking in the reflection of a bride who looked more like a stranger. My best friend, Sarah, flitted around me with a flurry of hairspray and last-minute adjustments.

“Nik, you look stunning,” she said, her eyes misty with emotion.

“Thank you,” I whispered, but the words felt hollow.

“Is everything okay? You seem… I don’t know, distant,” Sarah asked, concern etching her features.

“I’m just nervous,” I lied, avoiding her gaze.

The truth was that a voice in my head kept repeating my grandmother’s words, “Nikola, don’t rush into marriage. Happiness won’t run away.” She had passed away the previous year, but her wisdom still lingered in my heart.

The ceremony venue was bustling with guests, the air thick with anticipation. As I waited in the wings, my father by my side, I overheard a hushed conversation that made my blood run cold.

“You know, Oskar’s marrying her for the convenience. His mother thinks Nikola will bend to their will, just like they want,” a voice snickered.

“Yeah, she seems too nice to stand up to them, poor girl,” another voice replied.

My heart sank. Was this how Oskar’s family truly saw me—as a pawn in their game? I felt a surge of anger and betrayal. How had I been so blind?

The music began to play, signaling it was time for me to walk down the aisle. But my feet felt glued to the floor. My father looked at me, puzzled by my hesitation.

“Nikola, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Dad, I don’t think I can do this,” I confessed, tears brimming in my eyes.

“Nik, sweetheart, if you’re not sure, you don’t have to go through with it,” he reassured me, squeezing my hand.

His words were a lifeline. I turned to Sarah, who had come to see what was happening. “Sarah, I need to get out of here,” I said urgently.

Without another word, she nodded, understanding the gravity of my decision. She quickly helped me gather my dress, and together, we slipped out a side door, away from the crowd and the expectations.

Outside, the cool air hit my flushed cheeks, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I was free, but the weight of my choice lingered heavily.

“What will you do now?” Sarah asked, her voice gentle but firm.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, watching the clouds drift across the sky. “But I need to find out who I am without them dictating my life.”

A few days later, after the dust had settled, I found myself sitting on a park bench, reflecting on everything that had happened. I had called off the wedding, much to the shock and anger of Oskar’s family. Oskar himself was hurt, but he eventually understood that we both needed time to reassess what we wanted out of life.

For the first time in years, I felt a sense of peace. I had taken control of my own destiny, refusing to let others decide my happiness. As I watched children play nearby, I wondered what life had in store for me next.

“Was this the right choice?” I asked myself, knowing the answer lay in the journey ahead. My grandmother was right; happiness wouldn’t run away. But now, I had to find it on my own terms.

“What does happiness truly mean if it’s not shared with those who respect and love you unconditionally?” I pondered, leaving the question open for the world to answer.