Three Years Wasted, I Married Mr·right Novels & Stories

She stands in the middle of my living room, shaking with fury, her perfectly manicured nails curling into claws like she’s debating whether to slap me or gouge my eyes out. “You did what?” she shrieks, her voice so high pitched I’m surprised the windows don’t shatter. I take a deep breath and gesture vaguely at the space between us. “I feel like we already covered this.” “Covered this?” she echoes, her face going dangerously red. “You’re telling me you married some random bar trash in Vegas, and all you have to say about it is ‘we covered this’?” “It was a mistake,” I say, keeping my tone level. “A drunken, ridiculous, stupid mistake. That I’m now legally stuck in for three months.”

Aurora shook her head quickly. “I’m fine.” Mrs. Hale stood up. “We were only discussing the future.” Adrian frowned slightly. “The future?” Mrs. Hale looked directly at him. “Yes.” She paused briefly before continuing. “Aurora and your marriage.” The room grew quiet. Aurora’s heart tightened. Adrian’s expression hardened slightly. “What about it?” Mrs. Hale crossed her arms. “This marriage has achieved nothing in three years.” Aurora lowered her gaze. Mrs. Hale continued calmly.

His voice carried across the venue as he spoke about love, commitment, and the journey of marriage. Normally, I would have listened. Today, however, I couldn't care less. Every second felt like an eternity. All I wanted was for the ceremony to end so I could spend every remaining moment beside my wife and the future family we were about to build together. As the pastor continued speaking, I felt a gentle nudge against my arm. Turning my head, I found her smiling up at me. “I guess...” she whispered between chuckles, “I was really lucky to marry the wrong groom back then.”

She had locked herself inside a gilded cage and called it marriage. “All right, Perry,” Marcus said, clinking his glass against hers. “Or are we supposed to call you Mrs Somebody now? Coach Miller was in a foul mood today, but he did drop one bloody bombshell. Apparently you got married three years ago and told none of us. What happened? Did your husband lock you in a manor and turn you into a trophy wife?”

Trying to ignore the phone on the windowsill. Thirty seconds away from the truth. Thirty seconds I'd chosen not to watch. And I wondered if Marcus was right. If I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life. If I'd just destroyed everything that mattered. But it was too late now. The papers were signed. The marriage was over. And whatever came next, I'd have to live with it. For better or worse. In sickness and health. Till death do us part. Except death had already parted us. Long before today.

"If our life is just a humdrum, like the first three years of our marriage, perhaps I wouldn't get to know how much you actually love me." "Nathaniel apologized to her upon hearing Mango mentioning about his silent treatment to her for the past three years, ""If I have known that we would experienced so much...""" So what? Would you still not marry me? Nathaniel didn't know how to answer her. "Looking at his wife's crystal-clear eyes, Nathaniel suddenly held her face and said affectionately, ""Nope, I will still marry you, but I would not waste those three years' time. I would've long hold you tightly in my arms without wasting those years."""

"What do you mean?" His crow-like lashes drooped, a hint of intoxication, and he chuckled self-deprecatingly. "To repay Lauren's kindness, I've repeatedly indulged Jessica, leading my marriage to be ruined. Now that I'm back home, the room is empty, and I'll be able to see you again as soon as I raise my head." "I... don't look forward to going home anymore." Scenes of harmony over the past three years suddenly flooded my mind. Yes, in those first three years when I didn't know his gentle restraint, I actually experienced happiness in this marriage.

Turning toward Prince Carlson, I said, "Darling, let's go." He wrapped an arm around my waist, and together we walked away, leaving my mother with a look of utter despair. Behind us, Maggie's hysterical screams rang out, "Alicia! You will die a terrible death! You think marrying a eunuch means safety? He will despise you—" An arrow whistled through the air, cutting her words short. Alongside my mother's startled scream came the muffled crash of a heavy body striking the ground. I paused mid-step, but I did not look back.

"Quinn, Rosie's actually had a thing for you forever. If you actually married her, she'd lose it." I jerked awake. Gordon Yelton was staring dead serious. I was alive. Again. Deborah, his wife, sat next to me, clutching my hand, all soft smiles. "You've crushed on Rosie for ten years. If this marriage happens..." My parents exchanged tight smiles. We all knew the game. This wasn't about love. The Yeltons were broke, and they needed our money. Everyone knew I'd been Rosie's lovesick fool.

However, I was no longer the person I was seven years ago. I no longer had to tread carefully around Joseph Larkin and obey his every command without a shred of dignity. I said, "There's no reason for me to lie to you, Joseph. I'm already married to someone else." Joseph cast a sidelong glance at me and said mockingly, "You're still going on about this, Wendy? I'm only here to inform you, not ask for your opinion. I'm marrying Mabel, no matter what you think."