Three Marriages Novels & Stories

On the seventh day of freshman orientation, I ran into the cafeteria like I was running the hundred-meter dash, desperate to get my favorite grilled sausage. Instead, I crashed straight into my childhood friend's embrace. The idiot was shirtless, and his huge pecs smacked me right in the face and the impact knocked me onto my butt. In the seconds I lost, the grilled sausage was almost gone. I almost fell apart. Seven days, and I had only managed to eat them once. My childhood friend waved a plate of grilled sausages in my face, then spat on it. "Yup, no. Not giving you any." Furious, I slapped his hand away. "Stay away from me. I get dizzy around big pecs." My childhood friend instantly lost it. "I'm still better than that useless fiance of yours!"

On our wedding day, Kayla Rowan left halfway through. No matter how much I begged her to stay, she left without a second thought because her first love, Andrew Quinn, was having surgery. She said sorry to me, but I did not respond with my usual reassurance that everything was okay.

My boyfriend of six years, Liam Sherman, proposes to his long-time crush, Vivi Johansen, on my birthday. With that, the passionate love between us is a thing of the past. I come to my senses and distance myself from him, choosing to put our relationship behind us. As such, I decided to go along with the arranged marriage my family has planned.

On my twentieth birthday, my father asked me to draw from a box of straws. It was to pick a husband between William Smith and Austin Smith to inherit North Town. The short straw represented Austin, while the long straw represented William. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the long straw. However, I was certain that I did not want to marry Austin. I drew straws for three years, but it was to no avail. I had no choice but to tamper with the straws to marry William as I wished. However, ten years into our marriage, he was no longer gentle and kind. He had turned into a really cold person. He neither returned home nor touched me. Even when I threatened him with a knife, he refused to talk to me. Despite feeling hurt, I was unwilling to let him go. That was until I watched him kick away the only medicine I had for my asthma while I was writhing on the floor. “I was the one who switched out the straws. There was no long straw, yet you forced me to marry you. Mandy died from a broken heart, so you should pay with your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a short straw. I calmly said, “Since it’s the short one, I choose Austin.”

In the fourth year of her engagement to Mason Hart, Evelyn Ward still had not been able to marry him. The Hart family had produced officers for three generations, and marriages required approval from military headquarters. Yet every year, their marriage request was rejected. Until the fourth year, when Evelyn personally saw Mason alter the application. Only then did she realize that Mason had never intended to marry her at all.

I have been through three marriages initiated by my stepmom in order to pay off my late father’s debt. This time around, I was betrothed to a disabled man, Shawn. According to my stepmom, Shawn was a useless cripple from an average-earning family so she signed me off to him without thinking twice, ignoring my tears and pleas. But guess what? I was surprised to see Shawn rise to his feet to do his manly duties to me on our wedding night. He was also the owner of the biggest group of companies in the country. Could he be the man of my dreams?

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

"Chels, you're turned on too, aren't you?" During a visit to the haunted house with my best friend, Chelsea Higgins, and her boyfriend, Ivan Benton, Ivan has mistaken me for Chelsea and has embraced me from behind. I can feel his warm palm slowly sliding up the hem of my skirt in the pitch-black darkness. At the same time, his hot breath keeps splaying over my nape and my earlobe. The most embarrassing thing is, I'm starting to get turned on by Ivan's actions for real.

He was the Master of Golden Liberty who everyone was scared of. He was also the famous and elusive divine doctor. He returned to the city silently, but the Millers despised him, and even his fiancée wanted to call off the engagement.  Everything started with a broken engagement…

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”