Ex Wife Shows Up To Wedding With Gun Novels & Stories

“Funny, Rowan. You don’t usually care about who stands where in a wedding. You barely care about the wedding at all.” I stayed quiet, jaw ticking once. Silence is a weapon; I let it stretch between us. Finally, she pushed, her voice firmer now. “What happened?” My eyes cut to hers. She wanted truth? Fine. Cold, unpolished truth. “Her ex came back. The psychopath. Took her. Woods, cottage, all of it. She almost died.” Nina froze, lips parting just slightly, the first crack in her otherwise smug expression. “What?”

Then he left, closing the door behind him. I sat there alone in the quiet room, listening to the sound of the air conditioning. Then a voice filled the space, startling me at first. It was deep and commanding, coming from the speaker on the wall. "Mr. Hart. Thank you for coming." I looked around, searching for cameras. "Who are you?" "That's not important. What's important is that we discuss your wife." "Ex-wife," the voice corrected. "The papers were filed two weeks ago." My hands curled into fists on the table. "She's still my wife until I sign those papers. And I'm not signing."

And Missy wondered where she’s laid the reason why she gave herself to this man. She heaved a deep sigh, continue touring down her memories. The night they had their wedding, the night she found out her mother was missing and the woman with them was an imposter. She had took her out of consciousness and ran way, she recollected the drama attached to the night. He brought a gun to his own wedding, and made a lot of threats. Her mind flashed back to when they were together in the car driving back home that night, the moment where he confessed to his wicked deeds and notify her of the hell he’s going to give her.

A genuinely alarming amount of it. She sprang up and crossed the room to pull me into a tight hug. "Hunny! I missed you — even though I probably shouldn't have, considering you ran off with a man we agreed you weren't seeing anymore." I set my bags down, grateful for the momentary relief of just being home. "Missed you too, Margo." I didn't have the energy for the rest. "No, you didn't, and honestly, I don't blame you." She smirked. "Attending your ex-husband's wedding to his sidechick, in Vegas, with Gavin on your arm? I'm sure there was enough drama to keep you sufficiently distracted."

My calendar notification appears at 6:50 AM: Five Years. I dismiss it. I already know what day it is. I have known since I woke at 4 AM and couldn't fall back asleep. Five years ago today, I was supposed to marry Elena Sinclair at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Three hundred guests. String quartet. Flowers imported from Ecuador because Elena mentioned once that she loved blue hydrangeas. Instead, I spent that day in my father's office, listening to him explain why choosing her meant losing everything.

"You’re amazing, you know that?" I smiled faintly. "I just know a thing or two about handling crises. Comes with the territory when your ex-husband is a billionaire with a target on his back." He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Remind me to never underestimate you again." "You'd better not," I teased. An hour later, we stood side by side at the Westbrook headquarters, facing a room packed with reporters. Cameras flashed, and the tension was palpable.

I did not tell him about the small, quiet room where they had taken my daughter's body. I slowly lowered my arm and tapped the red button on the screen, hanging up on him. The room returned to its suffocating silence. I placed the phone face down on the metal table, turned my body toward the window, and pulled the thin white sheet over my shoulders. The marriage was dead, the baby was dead, and the man I had loved was a stranger I never wanted to see again.

Music swelled, and Miles, sharp in a black suit, walked slowly down the aisle with Vivian’s arm in his. Wendy’s mind drifted to her own wedding day. The same hall. The same red carpet. Miles’s hands were sweaty with nerves, yet he gripped hers tightly and whispered in her ears, “Wendy, I finally get to marry you.” Now, he walked with another woman, calmly tracing the path they had once walked together. A tear fell before she could stop it. Wendy quickly wiped it away, but the murmurs of the guests reached her ears. “Isn’t that Mr. Carter’s ex-wife? How dare she show her face here?”

She hugged me one last time, eyes bright with love, and waved as we drove off. I never imagined it would be the last time I saw her alive. Gordon rolled up the window, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "I told you not to show up. But you just couldn’t listen. If not for my dad holding a gun to my back, I’d never have married you." My heart shrank. "You wanted this so badly, didn’t you? Well, congratulations." His mouth twisted in a cruel smile. "You just signed yourself into hell. Don’t expect happiness in this marriage."

“I am going to let you watch a wedding.” I blinked hard. “Do you mean my wedding?” “No, Mariana Rose.” She pointed at the celebration outside us. “I mean Evan Hugh’s wedding. Witness your own husband getting married to another woman.” I snapped my head outside only to see a very elegant and beautiful garden wedding happening before us. I looked around and saw the insignia of the pack of Evan. We are at his mansion and my husband is in the middle of the backyard adorned by my favorite tulip flowers dancing with a very elegant lady wearing a wedding dress that I designed myself for my own wedding with Evan.