Bride Mail Novels & Stories

She got into her office and shut the door. Barely two minutes into settling in, Aimee received an email stating that the rest of the board members had a meeting in less than thirty minutes; actually, it was reminder email, but Aimee hadn’t prepared for any meeting, and it was totally unlike her. Something was eating Aimee Landon up and it had something to do with Christopher Bridger honeymooning away in Miami.

I stammered, pointing at myself. There’s no way they’re letting me marry the enemy for real. It’s already too much that my family’s not paying attention to me despite me trying hard, but now they also want me to marry Lucian Moretti? Heck, no! “Yes, Miss Vale. You heard it right,” Roman replied in a mocking tone. He looked down on me just like everyone else. “You don’t need me to explain the details unless you need me to spell it out for you what it means to be married, yeah?”

They were getting married next month. After we sang the birthday song for the twins, we cut the cake and celebrated. Miriam came and stood beside Alina as they talked. “You know, we'll be expecting a protruding belly after a month of your wedding” Alina said playfully. “We're sure going to make that happen, right honey?” Richard said. “Right, if you're going to be the one with the protruding belly because as for me, I want to enjoy my marriage first and that's on period” Miriam said.

Because I knew my fate might be worse than those oysters'. I opened the letter with trembling hands. Sure enough, no matter how graceful Sarah's handwriting tried to be, it couldn't mask my mother's wrath boiling beneath the lines. Switching grooms without notice—Strike One. Running off and getting married on my own—Strike Two. Then vanishing without a word to the family—Strike Three. The kind you don't come back from. By the time I reached the end, where Blake was frowning hard at the page, a strange sense of calm settled over me.

"What's in that?" "It's a mail from my Mother." He replied, picking it up. "A plane ticket for an honeymoon in France." I stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief. First, I was married off without my consent, and now, I was about to be shipped off like a silverware to a place where I knew no one. I exhaled deeply and steadied my misty eyes on the dark liquid in front of me. My life had completely slipped from my hands in such a short moment.

Two weeks before my wedding to Wendy Sutton, she gets a marriage certificate with someone else. That day, a screenshot from an unfamiliar group chat suddenly pops up in our wedding-planning group. The group is named "No One Stays Young Forever". A photo of Wendy and her new husband, Shiloh Caddel, is posted. They are beaming as they hold up the marriage certificate they've just obtained. Her brother asks, "You made sure Morgan doesn't know, right? Don't let this affect the wedding plans." My best friend replies, "Don't worry, he's still waiting for Wendy to come back so she can try on her wedding makeup." Her best friend chimes in, "They're only registering the marriage to make up for a

The penthouse was just as we left it, but the mail had piled up on the entry table. "I'll get Emma," Aria said, unbuckling the carrier. "You get the mail." I sifted through the stack. Bills. Wedding gifts. A postcard from James and Lily in Bali. And one thick, cream-colored envelope. It had a wax seal. The return address was Sterling & Cross. "Aria," I said, my voice serious. "You need to see this." "What is it?" she asked, walking over with Emma on her hip. "Did they send a bill?"

“Sorry to disturb you signora, but there’s a delivery for you. It has no name, just this.” She handed Elena a small parcel. Inside was a beautiful rose, and a note handwritten in neat calligraphy: “For the mysterious widow who hides masterpieces in plain sight. Let Rome see you, even just for a night. …Giovanni.” … That night, after she had taken a long bath and was standing in front of her bedroom mirror, brushing her damp hair. Her mind wandered yet again, uninvited, to the dark years she had spent locked in silence. Without joy or laughter… now she had a built a wall so high around herself that even her own heartbeat could not escape.

There was so much to do, many files to go through and multiple calls and meeting memos. Among the bulky mails, Madison forwarded three unique mails to me. They were from the customers and companies that bridged our contracts and called off their deal with us. They sent a mail apologizing for their mistake and wish to meet and discuss terms. I felt ease immediately and forwarded the mail to my husband.

She was too much in awe of the books that she hadn't even noticed when he took his leave. Belladonna slowly stepped away from the window side and came to the trolley. There was an envelope right on top of the stack of books. It was a handwritten letter, probably the best handwriting she had ever seen. It read: 'To my Bride, I have observed you like books but sadly, I haven't paid close enough attention to know precisely the type you like. I hope, at least, one of these would be it, and would serve the purpose of my peace offering to you.