Bride To Be, Not Me Novels & Stories

“I guess having an extra child was bad after all,’’ she added and I finally turned my head to look at her. “You are so… I don’t know,’’ suddenly lost for words, I shook my head. —--- WEDDING DAY. I have no idea what was making me fidget. Of course, I knew, I was getting married today and I was just a stand in bride. I curled my hand into a tight ball and breathed out again. I had no choice. I had to do this for Aidan. For me… for our future. I reminded myself of that. I raised my head slowly and then finally looked at myself in the big dressing mirror. Getting sentimental, I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

Unfortunately for Travis, I had no desire to open the wedding invitation. "Aren't you going to take a look?" Travis asked in disbelief. I shook my head while wearing an indifferent expression. Earlier, right after I finished eating dinner, I noticed that Victoria had posted a new update on her social media account. She had posted a photo of the new wedding invitation. The groom's name was Travis Somerson. Meanwhile, she intentionally censored the bride's name. Only the last name "Somerson" was vaguely visible while the first name was blurred out.

I was to be wed in a week and that was his final verdict. Neither my mother, nor my brother had been of any help. My brother had straight out refused to talk to me and my mother had bowed her head and agreed to everything my dad had to say. It was on my wedding day that I’d finally decided that enough was enough and I’d taken matters into my own hands. I couldn’t stand being underestimated and treated like an object any longer. Being married off would mean the end of my dance career and that felt like dying a thousand painful deaths before death actually came for me.

It’s rare for them to pay attention to me in a positive way, especially when the focus is solely on me. The boutique is filled with soft classical music that plays overhead. It’s gentle and light, close to the song that would be playing as I walk down the aisle towards Leonardo. But I don’t feel like a bride. I feel like a lamb dressed for slaughter. My only saving grace is that I managed to talk Beatrice into letting Gianna come with us for the appointment. As my unofficial maid of honor, it’s her duty to tell me how awful I look in these dresses and help me choose the one that I’ll least hate.

Mom said dreamily. I balled up my fists. “I am not getting any dresses here. I am not his bride," I said, turning on my heels towards the doorway. A wave of guilt flooded my brain as realization dawned on me. I have been swept away by the breathtaking view of this boutique, that I almost forgot I was married. Married to Tony, and planning to marry Bernard Veritas. I couldn't do it. I was about to run out when a firm hand gripped my shoulder.

Turning to Fumi, he added, “Your dress is stunning, and so are you, Fumi. I believe we already met, right?” I didn’t tell him their names, not directly. He must have been paying attention to all my conversations about them. “Take her,” they chorused. “Take her. Go.” “Girls,” I started, but they were the ones who yanked me up from the seat. “As the bride, I give her permission to leave now. Don’t come back here, Beth.” “Come on,” I protested. They gave me side hugs. “Go talk to your man,” Becca whispered. “Don’t forget to call the other one. He seemed pretty upset.”

"But Aiden needs to get married, My king. He can get a substitute for a.." "Don't even conclude that mum! I'm getting married to no one but Tahira." I cut her off fiercely, glaring at her. "I could get Beatrice Hun, it's not too late." She Insisted and moved to punch the wall so hard in anger. In as much as my mum is right, I still can't bring myself to do it. This is the perfect time to eliminate Tahira and move forward with Beatrice but a strong excruciating pain keeps lingering at the corner of my heart at her absence. How the hell will I let go of my mate?

"You don't have to do anything about it today. Or this week. Or this month. You can meet him when you're ready, not a second before." "What if he's disappointed?" The question leaves my mouth before I can stop it. "What if he's spent all this time building up this idea of who I am and I show up and I'm just… me? A third-grade teacher from Grey Crest who hid in a rosebush at an engagement party and ‘accidentally’ sold herself into a mate contract?" Bridget makes a sound that is absolutely a suppressed laugh. "You did what at an engagement party?" "It's a long story."

He regards me again and adds, "And I advise you to watch your language from now on, mi eposa. I have zero tolerance for brats." This makes me even angrier. I should be terrified of him, but I’m long past that. All I want right now is to leave this place. To return to Los Angeles. Why the hell is he telling me I can’t? Come to think of it, I was never meant to be his bride. My sister was. Maybe I should remind him of that. Gathering my wits, I say more calmly, hoping he’ll actually listen this time, "I’m not a brat and I’m most definitely not your ‘mi eposa.’ This is all a misunderstanding. I mean this marriage."

The responsibilities befitting for an Alpha's prince bride is humugnous to stomach. “Mother tell father that I don't want to be the Alpha son's bride the moon goddess has made a mistake pairing me with whom I don't want or anyone for that matter.” I clicked my tongue stubbornly, my face in scrunched up contempt and refusal like a big bold sign board.