Escape From Wedding Novels & Stories

He quietly ordered Oscar to take Eunice backstage and have her presentable again. For the sake of both Powell Group and himself, this wedding had to go on. However, Eunice could no longer bear the judgmental looks and whispers from the guests. She broke down completely and fled the wedding venue. All that remained of the wedding was a grim-faced groom. And so, this farce billed as the "Wedding of the Century" finally came to an end with the bride running away. It wasn't until the afternoon of the day after the wedding that Eric finally found Eunice huddled beside a pile of garbage, muttering to herself over and over, "I'm not the bride."

In Willow Creek, there is an unspoken rule about wedding processions: never retrace your route. But on the day we are supposed to get married, my fiancee, Emma Carter, orders our entire wedding procession to turn around and drive more than 12 miles back the way we've come—just to catch up with another wedding convoy. I am about to get out and demand an explanation when I overhear Emma talking to one of her bridesmaids, Lena Williams. "You drove more than 60 miles just to make it to Ryan's wedding," Lena says. "That's some serious dedication." Then she glances nervously in my direction. "And now you're making us turn around? Aren't you worried Nathan's going to be pissed?" Emma contin

"Don't do that. Don't use my grief against me. This has nothing to do with my parents and everything to do with the fact that you're allowing your mother to orchestrate something disgusting in our marriage." "She needs to leave," I continued, my voice cracking. "Vanessa needs to leave this house. Today. Now. I want her gone." Adrian turned to face me fully. His expression was pained, torn between what he knew was right and what his mother had convinced him to accept. "She has nowhere else to go," he said finally. I laughed "And so?" I said flatly. "She should find somewhere else to go.” “You owe me your loyalty, Adrian,” I continued. “Me, not your mother. Me."

Days before our wedding, Adrian Vitale fastened the Vitale family's emerald necklace, passed down for three generations, around my sister's neck. He was the new Don of the Vitale family, one of New York's Mafia families. I was the Moretti daughter he was supposed to marry. The necklace had always gone to the woman the Vitale family recognized as its Donna. Adrian had promised to fasten it around my neck himself at our wedding. "I lost to your sister at cards last night, so the necklace is hers." My sister, Vivian Moretti, bumped Adrian's arm playfully. "You're really giving me your family heirloom? Aren't you worried my little sister will be mad?" Adrian gave her an indulgent look. "It's jus

"This wedding is over." She picks up her dress and walks down the aisle. Past the shocked guests. Past the cameras. Past everything. Kieran meets her at the door. He doesn't say anything. He just takes off his jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. Then he leads her out of the church. Behind them, they can hear Lucas trying to salvage the situation. Trying to explain. Trying to convince people that both Alice and Elara are unstable. But it doesn't matter. The damage is done. The wedding is over. And Elara is free.

Yvonne and Samuel, however, looked like bedraggled refugees. In addition, the bride-to-be looked miserable, making it clear she wasn't getting married by choice. Yet, regardless of what they were thinking, the staff did their jobs and processed the marriage certificate. They were even forced to take a photo to celebrate that moment. That was easily the most hideous and strange thing they had ever seen in the city hall. Upon hearing from the chauffeur that Yvonne and Samuel had gotten their marriage certificate, I felt a surge of satisfaction, as if a mischievous scheme had worked perfectly. However, this particular scheme would haunt them for as long as they lived.

I lifted my face to the sunlight and the ocean breeze. "Let's go. Our guests are waiting." Behind me, Nevaeh's desperate cries faded away, swallowed by the sound of the waves and the wedding’s soft music.

My name was written on the invitation card instead of Samantha's. … It was pouring on the day of the wedding. The red carpet stretched from the entrance to the stage. The doors opened. Samantha, wearing a wedding gown, walked down the aisle. But she looked nothing like herself. Charles stood at the other end of the aisle. He wore a white flower brooch on his black suit. He looked calm with a faint smile on his face. "Come here," he said. Samantha took a step forward. The moment she stepped on the red carpet, her legs gave out, and she fell on her knees.

The reception was everything Clara had not known she wanted. Food. Dancing. Laughter. The pack is celebrating not just a wedding but survival. Hope. Future. She danced with Ash until her feet hurt. spoke with everyone. Accepted well wishes and congratulations until her face ached from beaming. It was flawless. Ash finally leaned in as the night deepened. In her ear, a whisper. "Ready to escape?" In a desperate manner. Silently, they disappeared. No big exit. Just two individuals slinking out of their own gathering.

A few weeks before the wedding, my brother Adam, my childhood friend Liam Foster, and my best friend Celia Brooks moved into the house I shared with my fiancé, Julian Reed. From that day on, the smart lock seemed to forget who I was. The lock wouldn't recognize my fingerprint, and my code never worked. I kept getting locked out. Every time, Julian said, "There's nothing wrong with the lock. You're doing it wrong." My brother thought I was making a fuss over nothing. "Stop blaming everything on the lock. Everyone else can get in. Why can't you?" Liam tried to calm me down too. "Don't ruin everyone's mood over a stupid lock." Yesterday, I stood doubled over with stomach pain, trying the lock o