Scripture To Read At Wedding Novels & Stories

On the day of my wedding, I stood on the stage, while my fiance, Jake Stevens, passionately kissed his assistant, Chloe Xanders, in front of everyone. He held her in his arms and said earnestly, “Chloe, don’t worry. Even though you’re not my bride, you’ll always have a place in my heart.” Chloe, who was overwhelmed with emotion, threw herself into his arms and wept as she said to me, “Lily, Jake and I are deeply in love, but fate just didn’t work out for us in this life. Please take good care of him.” Gossip instantly spread around us. Just as I was feeling helpless, my fiance humiliated me further and called me nothing more than a doormat. Watching the two of them clinging to each other, I could not take it anymore. I canceled the wedding on the spot and left for abroad the same night to join my best friend. The next time I met Jack, I had already moved on with someone new. When he saw me interlocking my fingers with my new love and kissing him passionately, his eyes instantly filled with burning jealousy.

I have been hopelessly in love with Don Lorenzo Greco since the first time I saw him ten years ago. As the only daughter of the long-established Messina mafia family, I have set aside my pride and chased after him for a decade. On my 25th birthday, the way Lorenzo looks at me finally changed. He's not seeing a child anymore. He's looking at a woman. Lorenzo says yes to me, and I finally kiss the mouth I've been dreaming of all this while. The next day, Lorenzo announces to the world that he will hold the wedding of the century. 9,999 roses, fireworks all night, and a spectacle so grand it will shock every family in Northern Darvent. I stand there with tears in my eyes as the fireworks spell out another woman's name. Elena Lagioia. The assistant who has always been at Lorenzo's side, the girl I have never once taken seriously. I plan to confront Lorenzo with a gun in my hand. However, I stop outside the door when I hear him speaking to his consigliere. "Elena's parents are gambling addicts and owe a large debt. If I don't marry her, she'll be sold to a brothel in Malicuria tomorrow. Let's keep Cinzia in the dark for now. After this is over, I'll divorce Elena and marry Cinzia. After all, she loves me so dearly." On Lorenzo's wedding day, I'm wearing a wedding dress and resting in the arms of a far more powerful Don of the Argento family from Southern Darvent. I look at Lorenzo and smile. It drives him crazy. He swears to do whatever it takes to win me back.

I put three hundred million dollars into building a business for my brother's first love. They were finally getting married. But two hours before the wedding, the maid of honor suddenly went AWOL. To keep the wedding on track, I dropped a major international deal, booked the next flight out, and flew back immediately. When I arrived, my brother hugged me gratefully and handed me the wedding ring along with a gift box — inside was a necklace, a token he'd promised Celeste. "Sis, I'm counting on you to take care of Celeste's side. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you step in as maid of honor today?" But the moment I walked into the bridal suite, my brother's bride slapped me across the face. "You've got some nerve showing up here, you homewrecking bitch." "You think you can steal my husband at my own wedding? Are you out of your mind?" "Celeste, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I’m Alexander’s sister…" I tried to explain. "Who the hell are you kidding?! My sister-in-law runs a billion-dollar empire. A tramp like you could never." "You want to steal my husband? Fine. Let's see how tough you really are." And just like that, I was tied up and thrown into a pen with a vicious dog. Celeste Davenport — if that's how you want to play it, then enjoy your one-way ticket to the hell.

“That video in the group chat was filmed in your bridal suite, wasn’t it?” one of the women asked with a grin. “Sleeping around right under Adela’s nose? That’s bold.” Lorenzo leaned back, swirling his drink, looking pleased with himself. “Yes.” “I used to be too sick to do half the things I wanted,” he said, tapping his chest. “After the transplant, I realized spending the rest of my life with only one lover would be a waste.” The room erupted. He let them laugh, then added, “I set myself a goal. One hundred places before the wedding. Once it’s over, I’ll settle down. After that, my body and my marriage belong to Adela.” More laughter. More glasses raised. I stood outside the door with one hand pressed hard against my chest, where an artificial heart kept beating. Lorenzo never knew I had learned his language. He also never knew that I had already discovered he was keeping Vera—our wedding’s mistress of ceremonies—behind my back. And because he had hidden something from me, I had hidden something from him. I had already booked an assisted death service overseas.

Evelyn Larson's nephew, Maxwell Larson, has been staying at my home for 12 years. On top of sponsoring everything he has in life, I even view him as my own son. Heck, I'm the one who paid the down payment for Maxwell's new family home. But on the night we're having a holiday dinner, he throws me a list in front of everyone. "Uncle Lawrence, I've already hashed out the details with my fiancee's family. We'll be giving her family 700 thousand dollars as a wedding gift. You've raised me for so many years, so you need to prepare this amount for me." I frown instantly. "Didn't I just settle your down payment for you? Besides, Tiffany's about to get married soon. I need to save some money for her own wedding gift." But Maxwell instantly smashes a plate out of anger. "Since she's marrying into another family, that means she's no longer a part of this family! Are you saying that you're willing to give your money to an outsider rather than your own nephew? "If you refuse to agree to my terms, I'll make Aunt Evelyn divorce you right now!" I turn to look at Evelyn out of instinct, only to see her pulling out a gift agreement that she has already drafted. "We don't need to prepare any wedding gifts for Tiffany, seeing as she's the one marrying into another family. Max, on the other hand, is the only son of the Larson family. You should give your money to him instead."

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

On my wedding day, Yuna Shaw, the girl my parents had sponsored blocked the door to my room, just as lines of text began scrolling across my vision. [Oh my god, is the female lead really going to marry that golden heir? He’s a psychopath. He likes cutting people into pieces!] [The female lead’s such an idiot. The match Yuna arranged for her is the smarter choice.] [Switching marriages with Yuna is the only way to survive!] In my previous life, after reading those messages, I begged to call off the engagement. Yuna insisted on repaying my family’s kindness by marrying in my place. I ended up marrying the construction foreman she had chosen. After the wedding, my mother-in-law made my life miserable, and my husband abused me. I ran back to my parents for help, only to be slapped repeatedly by Yuna when she returned home. “Still think you’re some rich young lady? Running home the moment things get hard? Someone needs to knock that out of you!” Even my once-loving parents turned cold and threw me out. “You walked out that door as someone else’s wife. What happens to you now is none of our concern.” In the end, I was tortured to death by my husband. Only after I died did I realize it had all been Yuna’s scheme. Now she stood in front of me again, her eyes sharp with calculation. I shoved her aside. “You think you’re worthy of marrying in my place?”

At our high school reunion, my ex announced he was getting married. In the middle of the congratulations, someone piped up. “Hey, where’s Wren tonight? She didn’t show?” The whole room cracked up. “Wren? Probably still earning her keep in some rich guy’s bed.” “She dumped James for money, and now look at him. He’s the wealthiest guy in New York. Bet she’s kicking herself.” Someone snickered. “I heard the guy’s some fat old man. God, how does she even stomach it.” I broke up with James Thorne the year he loved me the most, and walked straight into the arms of another man, a man with money. Now he had a new girlfriend, he’d taken over Thorne Capital, and he was one of New York’s most talked-about young executives. He’d organized this reunion because he couldn’t wait to show off how good his life had turned out. “Enough. Drop it.” In the middle of the laughter, James spoke up. “I have a better life now. Whether Wren is dead or alive has nothing to do with me anymore.” “What if she really were dead?” The room went silent.

The day after we set our wedding date for the tenth time, my fiancé reached past me to kiss his adopted sister. He presented crimson roses to her as she descended from the stage. "My princess, in this lifetime, I'll only ever be your protector." I stood quietly beyond the cheering crowd, then turned and walked away without looking back. After five years of engagement, this was the moment I finally gave up hope.

For five years, I have seen Leo Belmonte—the Don’s heir—as the only light in my life. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, he smiled and told me I was only a stand-in for his untouchable first love, Mia. Now that the real thing was back, I was supposed to step aside—go underground, follow my mother's path, and be somebody's mistress like she had been. The bridal fastenings cut my palms bloody, and all he cared about was the dress. His precious Mia ran me down on the highway in her car, and he warned me not to call the police—held my mother's ashes over my head to keep me in line. When the whole internet was calling me a homewrecker, it was him who nailed me to the pillar of shame with his own hands. The night I finally gave up, I boarded the Deluca family's private helicopter. That was when they learned the truth—I was no homeless bastard daughter. I was the only heir the most powerful Don in Europe had been searching for all these years. Once, I saw him as my light. Now he kneels at my feet and begs forgiveness, and all I feel is disgust. One day soon, I would stand at the top of the underworld—somewhere he could never reach again.