[ WP ] at a wedding , someone is not who they claim they are .

The soon-to-be Mrs. Jones stared at her reflection. Her long red hair had been curled and pinned half-up, and she had yet to put on the long white dress hanging behind her. The woman in the mirror did n't look like her. She did n't recognize the face that she'd stared at since she'd been a child. This did n't look like- 
 No. 
 She cut off her thoughts and turned to the dress. Staring at it now, she could see the beauty in its simplicity. Avoiding her own eyes in the mirror now, she slipped into the long dress and zipped it up herself. Slowly, carefully, she placed her feet in the decently-sized heels. 
 This was it. This was what she needed. This would make her safe- finally. 
 At this thought, tears brimmed in her eyes, but she blinked them away angrily. She should be happy. She should be teeming with joy and excitement and all the things a good bride should. 
 But then she thought of the people that would n't be here, but should have been. Her sister, her brothers, her best friend, her parents- the list could go on. This time, tears strayed down her cheeks. She brushed them away hurriedly. What was wrong with her? Why was she doing this to herself? 
 She left her own questions unanswered as someone knocked on the door. She'd requested to be left alone for the last hour before the ceremony, and the people outside the door had complied. But this still was n't right. God, it was so far from right. 
 
 `` Hold on!'' she called to the door. The sound ceased. She took a deep breath to steady herself, meeting her own eyes once more. She fixed the make up that had been disturbed by her tears and folded her fingers together. There. She looked like a nice, proper lady. 
 The sight made her come to tears again. This time, they poured down her cheeks before she could stop them. 
 None of this was right. This should n't be happening. 
 She did n't know how long she sat there, continuously wiping the tears from her face. Eventually, however, the knocking resumed. 
 `` Emilia, come out, dear. We have to start the ceremony,'' her soon-to-be-mother-in-law's voice rang through the door. Emilia sniffed in a rather un-ladylike manner and ignored the woman. God, was she awful. She'd given Emilia no choice in this. Not that she'd ever had one. 
 
 Forty minutes passed and the bride had still not shown. The groom, looking as handsome as ever, looked worried and rightfully so. His mother had gone to get his bride and had not yet returned. With a glance at the minister, he took off down the aisle to find them. 
 Find them he did, as he found his mother pounding on a door in an upstairs corridor. 
 `` Mum?'' She turned to look at him and he recognize the look. The one that said his fiancee was in an astonishingly huge amount of trouble with her. He sighed. 
 `` Mum, let me in to talk to her.'' His mother glowered at him. 
 `` Darling, it's not acceptable to see-'' 
 `` Let me in,'' he insisted, trying his best to look pleading. He loved the woman in there, and he dearly hoped she loved him too ( as they /were/ getting married ). 
 `` Emilia, love, are you in there?'' 
 He heard a muffled sniff and sighed. He tried the door handle and found it locked. 
 
 Emilia's head whipped up at the sound of her fiance's voice and she frowned. No. No no no. Seeing him would convince her to go down that aisle and get married. Even if it meant her safety, she was n't sure that she wanted that anymore, not with everyone else- gone. 
 But he loved her, and she knew that. She could never doubt that. When his hand was warm in her own, she knew it. She knew it when he could see her panicking for no reason and he /stayed/. 
 Without thinking about it too much, she crossed to the door and unlocked it in one motion. She opened it a hair and peered at him with puffy eyes and saw him smile gently at her. 
 `` May I come in?'' he offered, proffering a hand like an eighteenth-century gentleman, which almost made her smile. Almost. He'd always been like this. 
 She opened the door a tad more, grabbing him and pulling him in the room before locking the door behind her. 
 He recognized her crying face immediately, of course he did. He knew her too well. 
 `` Em, what's wrong?'' His hands were on her shoulders, and they were hot and he sounded concerned, but she could n't see his face because she'd covered her face with her hands, and she could feel her breaths coming faster and faster now and knew he could see it too, and she felt the familiar panic welling up inside of her, and it all made her sink to the floor. She could n't do this. She could n't. She could n't do this to him. 
 `` Em?'' He sounded alarmed, but knelt next to her. 
 `` Adam, I ca n't do this.'' She felt him grow perfectly still. She definitely could n't look at him now. 
 `` Why?'' he asked stiffly. She could feel the hurt rolling off of him, and her body curled inward as though to protect her. 
 `` You- I can't- I ca n't do this to you. I ca n't.'' 
 `` What? What ca n't you do to me? I /want/ to be married to you, Em, I-'' 
 `` Do n't. Do n't say you love me. You do n't even know me.'' 
 `` What?'' He sounded confused now, `` Of course I know you, Em, we've been dating for two years.'' She laughed, but the sound was harsh and bitter coming from her pretty body. 
 `` Adam, you do n't know /anything/. God, why did I ever agree to this?'' 
 There was silence before Adam spoke again. 
 `` Why /did/ you?'' Emilia closed her eyes behind her hands. 
 `` You were safe. You loved me, and I could live with you. I never wanted to, but I fell in love with you anyway, even though I could n't afford being attached. Marrying you would make me safe.'' 
 Again, there was silence for a few moments. 
 `` Why? Why would that make you safe?'' 
 Emilia choked out a dry sob, feeling it rack her body. 
 `` Everyone I knew is dead, Adam. Everyone I ever knew before the age of 16 is dead. Marrying you would mean it could never happen again. /Falling in love/ meant it would never happen again.'' 
 `` What? What happened to them? Not- Not to be-'' 
 `` I- killed them. I did n't mean to, but I killed them.''
