Promise Vows Novels & Stories

Vivica smiled shyly and said, “I want to be yours completely, my future husband. I don’t want to wait anymore, my love. I want all of you.” The sacred promise they had made to wait until their wedding night suddenly felt like a fragile thread that had already been snapped by his grandfather’s ultimatum. Preston’s hands cupped Vivica’s stunning face and whispered, his voice thick with desire and resolve, “Sweetheart, didn’t we promise each other that we would wait for our wedding night? If I break this vow now, in the shadow of a contract marriage, I’m admitting that our love is as cheap as those company shares.

Davies in the other hand stared back at her, though he couldn't see her face clearly because of the veil that covered her face. Davies stretched out his hand gently, pretending to be the gentleman he's not. Kassady took his hands, then she turned to face the priest. "Now say this after me." The priest said to Kassady. "I, Kassady James, promise to be a honest and a respectful wife to you, I promise to please and support you in your ups and down, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. The priest said. Kassady hesitated, she knew what the priest just said is a lifetime vows.

I promise. –The end–

For eighteen years, my wife, Elizabeth Connerty, never once reached out to her first love, Lucas Ryder. She committed herself fully to me and cooked warm meals for me. She attended every parent-teacher conference for our daughter. She carefully planned our family trips year after year. That was how we lived—quietly, steadily, and happily—for eighteen years. But after our daughter celebrated her eighteenth birthday, I turned to Elizabeth and said, "Let's get a divorce." She stood in the doorway of our daughter's bedroom, staring at me in stunned silence. I added calmly, "When our daughter was born, you promised me that once she turned eighteen, we would divorce."

Their eyes widened in shock as I asked them, each word deliberate, "Do you really want to see me fall apart?" They exchanged a glance, silent and shaking, and they stepped back, giving me space. Sunlight pierced through the gloomy clouds, warming my skin, feeling like it carried hope itself. I stopped looking at them and walked on with determined steps. I knew they would not come after me again. Six months later, Chester and I had our dream wedding, and on that special day, I received two priceless gifts. I knew who sent them, but it did not matter to me. Love that came too late was worth nothing at all.

Damon slips his hands into his pockets, eyes fixed on me with that unnerving focus that always makes me feel stripped bare. “So,” he says finally. “Have you thought about my offer?” The question hangs between us, heavy and dangerous. I take a slow breath, forcing myself to look at him. “You mean your marriage proposal disguised as a business transaction?” His lips twitch. “Call it what you want.” “I have thought about it,” I admit quietly. Something flashes in his eyes—anticipation, pride, maybe both. “And?” I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to let him see the tremor in my hands. “I’ll do it.”

> “Today, we are here to witness not a contract, not an obligation, but a promise — a promise between two people who have chosen each other, freely and wholeheartedly.” Leonard’s grip on Aruna’s hand tightened slightly, their fingers intertwining perfectly. > “Aruna,” he began, his voice low but commanding attention, > “from the first moment I met you, I realized that life without you would be hollow. Today, I vow not just to stand by you, but to walk beside you in every storm, every triumph, and every quiet moment in between. No deals, no conditions — only truth, only us.”

"It's Carmilla—she drank and drank until her stomach bled to win you support. She pleaded and begged to keep you in business. "Even after you lost the shipment worth millions on that international deal with Lorenzo, he still worked with you because of Carmilla. She knelt and banged her head bloody to get you another chance. You should thank her." The conference room fell silent; eyes flicked between Mario and Carmilla. "She did all of that of her own free will," I said, looking straight at the man. "That's right. She did those things willingly. I didn't ask her to do them for me. My wife is Alessia. No matter what Carmilla did, the woman I love is Alessia." Mario's voice trembled as he spoke

“Promise me that no matter what happens from this day forward, you’ll remember this feeling. This love. How much I adore you. How much I love them.” Zara’s heart stuttered at the weight behind his words. There was something more in his voice — a quiet desperation, as though he knew something she didn’t. But she didn’t press. Not tonight. Tonight was too perfect, too precious to taint with questions. “I promise,” she breathed, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I promise I’ll hold on to this — always.” He kissed her then, slow and deep, sealing the promise between them as the party carried on in the background. It was a kiss heavy with love, layered with secr