Bride To Be, Not Me Novels & Stories

"My decision is final. Today is your wedding and get ready in the black suit. You have 30 minutes to get ready." My nose flared in anger. I banged the nearby glass table that caused my hand to bleed and the glass to shatter in a million pieces. Last night, we flew to Country B to attend the wedding about which Mr. Night didn't tell me anything. Now I'm here at the wedding venue. I was shocked when I saw my name attached with some other name, most probably the bride's name. The most surprising thing was that I'm the supposed groom of the bride whom I don't know.

" I nearly burst out laughing when I took in her self-righteous expression. "When did I ever say that I came back for you?" I asked lightly, making sure to keep my tone distant. "I won't marry you." Sabrina was once again stunned by my words. She stared at me in disbelief before a hint of certainty flickered in her eyes. It was obvious that she didn't believe me. "You're still angry, aren't you?" Sabrina asked. She rose to her feet and tried to take my hand, but I easily dodged out of the way.

"I have an announcement to make." They both turned their full attention to me. "I'm listening," Vivianne said, crossing her arms. "All of my bridesmaids are required to bring their man to the wedding," I said, keeping my face completely blank. "If you don't want to bring your husband, that’s fine, but you’ll have to find someone else to bring. You can borrow a man if you have to." Nyra relaxed immediately, knowing she was exempt, but Vivianne’s eyes went wide. She looked like I’d just insulted her heritage.

Before I can react, before I can demand what she means, her body melts into smoke, dissolving into the shadows, leaving nothing but the echo of her words. I collapse to my knees, clutching the blank note still tight in my hand. The scent lingers. The word bride echoes in my mind, pounding in rhythm with my frantic heartbeat. I wasn't married to anyone! I was betrothed to Alpha Aldric! How am I a runaway bride?

Both women stepped apart instinctively. The distance between them widened. A bridesmaid appeared around the corner. "There you are!" She smiled brightly. "The planner needs more photos inside." "Coming," Nora answered. The bridesmaid disappeared again without noticing anything unusual. Celine let out a slow breath. "That was close." "We weren't doing anything." "No." She looked at Nora for a long moment. "But I wanted to." Silence settled again. Not filled with desire alone. With grief. For timing. For circumstance. For everything they couldn't change.

I leaned closer to the wall as Aiden caught up with me and prayed to all the gods that this would be the end of their conversation. “Your fiancee, in case you forgot,” Anika answered defiantly. I was taken aback by this news, my heart literally jumped out of my chest, dispersing the blood through the veins with frantic shocks. Turning my gaze to the dark one, I waited for him to refute this ridiculous phrase. - The bride is not yet a wife, so die your ambition! - these words hit me like a stone slab, I hoped for a miracle to the last. Aiden lied to me.

My fiancé, Everett Prescott, spent five whole years designing my wedding dress, and it finally arrived today. Except I couldn't zip it up. It stayed wide open until my best friend, Sienna Hart, slipped into the dress perfectly. The fabric hugged her curves like a second skin. She turned to my fiancé with an exasperated sigh. "Everett, are you serious? You got Leah’s size wrong. Again." My blood ran cold. Over the five years Everett and I had been together, this wasn't the first time he'd conveniently forgotten my measurements. When he bought me pajamas that were a size too small, he just blinked, flashing that easy grin of his. "Oh, wait. I think this is Sienna's size, right? Let's j

My breath caught in my throat. Unable to believe what I'd just heard, I pressed the button again. Only when Cameron Finch's voice sounded again did I realize I hadn't misheard the first time. With trembling fingers, I tapped into Marissa Becker's Instagram, where the latest post was unmistakably a photo taken in a bridal shop. The caption read, "Picking out wedding dresses with the love of my life! I'm going to be the prettiest bride." The man in the photo was only half-visible, but I'd recognize that silhouette anywhere, even with my eyes closed.

Three days before my wedding to Natasha Bishop, my best friend Devon Hart shows up in tears, saying he's fallen in love with someone he shouldn't have. That night, I stay out drinking with him until we're both wasted, then I call Natasha to come pick me up. Wanting to mess with her, I slump face-down on the table and pretend to be passed out. Half an hour later, familiar footsteps stop right beside me. Natasha leans down and pinches my cheek, the way she always does when I'm drunk. "Graham?" I hold back a laugh and stay quiet, burying my face deeper into my arms, grinning to myself. Any second now, she'll sigh, help me up, and get me a glass of water, just like she always does. But her

I am not the BRIDE! I was even more nervous when the door finally opened, a sign that I needed to go inside. What am I going to do? Shall I enter? Or run? But it would be embarrassing if I ran away from them, but it's more embarrassing when I come in, I'm not even the bride! Shocks! What am I going to do now? Gosh, I hate this! Where is Raiza and she's not here?! It was supposed to be her because she was the bride and not me, gosh! What's happening?!