His Wedding, My Funeral Mga Nobela at Kwento

he said. "When I get home," she said. "I will make egusi," he said. "As promised." "Note fifty-one confirmed," she said. "Note fifty-one always delivers," he said. She smiled. The full version. In a venue car park in December, eight days from her wedding, with the reception music audible from inside and the December light doing what it did at two in the afternoon and the tide already on its way out. "Eight days," she said. "Eight days," he confirmed. "Come home when you are done."

On the day of my mother's funeral, I sat outside the chapel, crying so hard I could barely stand. Three days earlier, my father had told me she'd died in a car accident. He said her body was so badly damaged that I shouldn't see it. I wouldn't be able to handle it. I believed him. I put on a black dress and sat beside her casket all night. Ten minutes before the cremation, my phone buzzed. A notification popped up for a hotel livestream. I opened it and froze. My mother was on the screen in an evening gown, smiling as my younger sister, Nina Whitmore, handed her a glass of champagne. My father sat beside her, his eyes red. "From now on, Nina doesn't have to live in Evelyn's shadow or suffer

“We’ve got each other, and that’s all that matters.” I gulped down the remaining words. She was right. It was my wedding, and I didn’t have to feel tense. Nothing bad was going to happen. The worst thing that could happen was someone interrupting the ceremony. * Since my father was dead and my mother was still in a coma, I’d asked Isabella to walk me down the aisle. Immediately the cathedral doors opened and we started walking down; it didn’t feel like a wedding but my funeral procession. Don’t get me wrong—I loved Darren so much. But it didn’t feel enough. Isabella whispered in my ears, noticing the solemn look I had on.

I went up the stairs and memories made me sulk. Mom and mommy just laughed because of our mischief. "This is really my wife, I always want to be pampered. Alright, mom, I'll follow my future husband first," said Joseph as he ran up the stairs. "Honey, I'm here!" Joseph shouted with a smile. The day passed and our wedding was set, it will be held in our church. Joseph and I were already in the church, while I was the only one left and they were waiting. I walked out of the house, the car I was going to use to go to the church was waiting outside.

I hissed. He frowned, his tone almost pleading. "I swear, this is the last time. I know you're hurting over Gail, so I'm postponing the wedding. We'll give her a proper funeral. If you want to say goodbye, stop fighting me." "Where is she?" I demanded, my voice cracking. He seized my hand, his smile smug when I didn't pull away. But as he led me out, he stopped dead. In the hall, before Gail's memorial shrine, a crowd danced under flashing lights to a thumping beat. Her photo lay crushed under Lori's stiletto, warped beyond recognition.

"Serves her right! Seriously, how can someone be this cruel?" Hugh's rant got hotter by the second. I cut him off fast. "Enough. Today's my wife's funeral. I'm supposed to be grieving." I hit the bathroom mirror, didn't bother washing up—kept the wrecked, heartbroken look on purpose. Hugh gave me a once-over and nodded. We left for the funeral home. On the way, I slipped him a USB with the videos of Nancy alive, told him to play it only when I gave the cue.

As soon as Cara Lavigne finished speaking, she angrily gritted her teeth and hung up. I stopped walking. Slowly, I put away my phone and looked toward the entrance of the funeral home. After straightening the white flower in my chest pocket that had become crooked, I lifted my foot and walked inside. The next second, my phone vibrated with a social media update notification—Warren had just posted something. It was a long post saying he meant nothing by his earlier post and that he was only sharing the joy of having someone celebrate his birthday with him. He also apologized to me.

"But a sacrament is forever." I brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "Get dressed. The funeral is tomorrow." I looked at the ring on her finger. "But the wedding is tonight."

When I closed them, I cried. FUNERAL is all we could give— an honorable funeral they both deserve. It happened after they died. That day, when they died right before my eyes, I don't know if letting them take over what is supposed to have been done by me is the right thing to do. I should've prepared my body to exercise more so I could fight and think intelligently. In the end, regretting is all I could do. Mune and Yna came before us, wearing white dresses and white pants— yes, Mune doesn't have a top shirt— attending the most memorable day of my life. Today is my wedding with the most important woman of my life.

“Emma Klein, where the hell are you? I’m at the chapel now.” “Why the hell is this set up like a funeral!? This was supposed to be my wedding! The wedding my mother waited so long for!” “Whose funeral is this?!”