His Wedding, My Funeral Novels & Stories

He asked amused and I smiled. "Now you're getting it," I mumbled amused and he laughed. "Okay a small wedding, where?" "I don't know," "How about the beach?" "I think I would be the one bride to get sand in her eyes," "I agree," he said amused and I bit his chest smiling. "How about the ball room on 73rd, that we had the function at," "Okay," "I love your nonchalant attitude towards our wedding?" He said amused and I smiled. "That's because I don't care about the wedding, I'm only marrying you for you money, Lesley and I are going to kill you after the wedding," I replied sarcastically.

It's midnight and the day after tomorrow it's her wedding and I couldn't help but think about the similarity of our situation. We both are lying on the bed…" why are you sad " he asks . "Were you happy when we got married?" I asked honestly. " I am happy now " he caress my cheek " But you were in that time" I stared at the ceiling. " Why does it matter ?" " it's matter because wedding day is the only thing which we cherish our whole life but in our case that day was nothing but a nightmare to us " " I wanted to enjoy like a normal girl, get excited , nervous but I don't even remember how I survived that day. I was dying inside, suffocated and I don't want Shireen to go through the same

During that visit, he merely treated my family politely, unlike the warmth he showed Isobel's family, which I saw through the photos. I closed my eyes. Doing my best to quash the bitterness I felt, I turned off my phone. The next day, I reached out to a few friends and told them that the wedding had been called off. Dante once said that he didn't like wedding ceremonies. He thought they were a meaningless formality. At my insistence, he reluctantly agreed to have a small wedding ceremony with only our closest family and friends invited. Everyone around me knew how much I loved Dante. My friends were stunned to hear that the wedding had been canceled.

He tightened his grip on the bouquet, stepping forward to welcome his bride. Then he froze. It wasn't Violet. Instead, several men dressed in black mourning attire entered, carrying a coffin. Fury ignited within him. First the video, now this? This was his wedding. Who would dare bring a coffin here? He signaled his men to remove the intruders, but one of them stepped forward, face solemn, voice steady. "Mr. Warhol, your fiancée passed away yesterday. Our condolences." The words barely registered. Impossible. He had just video-called Violet the night before. She had smiled at him, told him she was preparing a surprise for their wedding. How could she be dead?

"You should be too." "I am, but only for a few minutes." His father dropped down in the seat in front of his desk. "I learned a long time ago that getting home to the pretty woman waiting on me is far more important than anything else. Weddings are a maybe, but funerals are a must." "Wait. What?" Damon brushed his hand down his face, trying to clear his mind. The scent of Beth on his fingers caused his cock to swell. Not now. "The old saying, ‘Weddings are a maybe, but funerals are a must.' You've never heard that?" His father seemed amused.

She looked back through the open doors — the casket, the white roses, the man she'd loved and lost and never understood in time. Her brother's voice was shaking in her ear. "I need you here," Daniel whispered. "Please." "I'm on my way," Sophie said, already moving, already abandoning the funeral she'd forced herself to attend. "Don't you dare let anything happen before I get there. Do you hear me? Don't you dare." She hung up and ran for her car, tears streaming down her face, grief for a dead husband and terror for a dying brother crashing into each other with no space left to breathe between them.

"And the wedding." "Doesn't happen the way it was supposed to." I look out the window instead of at him. "My fiancé marries someone else. On what was supposed to be my day. I find out standing outside a locked gate while the outbreak's already starting, and I don't make it through the night." The car goes very quiet. "Who," Damian says, low, and there's something in his voice now that wasn't there a minute ago, something sharper than curiosity.

Because Death had chosen him. I remembered the funeral very clearly. There were flowers everywhere, bouquets upon bouquets. Everyone had brought flowers and people stood and cried at his loss. The ceremony was beautiful, though. People were crying and smiling at the same time like he had been the sun, the moon and the stars all wrapped up together into a shining being called my husband, the King. And then his coffin was lowered into the ground and people moved on with their lives. It was as if I heard a snap of fingers jolting me out of memory lane and bringing me back to reality. I blinked away the memory of the past years. I looked at the portrait hanging next to me and my heart ached pain

"About it, Mom. The Moxa family will sort this out soon. We'll definitely close this news and my marriage to Vina goes on." "Are you sure, honey?" she asked. "Yes. Mommy even intends to make a luxurious wedding for us. Mommy prepared a honeymoon package to Bali for us." What's more for a honeymoon package, after all they have also produced a child from their illicit relationship. Isn't a honeymoon more appropriate for Bara and Nayya, who just got married? Vina's face brightened. The thought of lavish weddings and honeymoon packages made him impatient to get to that happy day. Become a queen for a day then go to a famous tourist spot.

“To think that you're all wearing black at our wedding. I must be really horrible.” Her eyes fell on her black gown that stopped a few inches away from her ankle and she chuckled. It was like she was attending a funeral and not a marriage. This wedding was like a funeral to her. “Perhaps I see this wedding as a funeral? My funeral.” A sad smile crept up his lips. Unlike her, he was dressed in a sharp red suit, unlike every other day where he settled for his usual black suit. He had his hair stylishly combed backward, his features sharp. “Well, unlike me, you look pretty stylish,” she complimented.