Novel & Cerita Too Late, I Married Up

"Someone's really marrying her? Even trash gets picked up, huh?" "She's bluffing. One wink from Noah and she'll be crawling back." I looked at Johan. Jaw tight. "If you're serious... I'll do it." *** By noon, Johan and I were married. By afternoon, we had the license. I stared at our photo on the certificate, totally out of it. That's when it finally hit me—Noah and I were done. Johan glanced over, voice dry. "If you wanna back out, we can split." I sniffed, swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I didn’t do anything. That night..” “I guess I have to compliment you on your awesome plan. You really want to be my wife so bad? Fine. I’m going to get married to you, right? I’m going to take responsibility for the baby in your womb. You win but just to let you know, it’s never going to be the same between us anymore.” Marcel turned his back and walked away from her.

My phone buzzes, and I break my gaze from where Tay is. “Yes?” “Whoa! I take it as someone pissed you off?” Future asks. “Some chick called Melta,” I informed Future. “Then what I'm going to tell you will piss you even more.” “What?” I ask. “They used to hook up, but I'm not sure.” “Future you are not helping my situation here.” “You asked, but don't worry I heard she got married a few days ago to some business, old tycoon.” “The way her hand is clawed at Tay, it's like she is not even married at all,” I tell Future.

"It's too early." "He's coming anyway." She was already up, already reaching for my coat with hands that weren't quite steady. "Whatever he thinks about your timing." I laughed, one broken, startled sound, because even now, even “here”, some part of me was still trying to finish a sentence I'd never get to say out loud. It would have to wait. He wasn't waiting for anything. Mara pulled the door open and shouted down the hallway. "Mae! We need the truck!"

But the truth was, I loved Leander more than anything. I loved him enough to have his son, Ryan Beaumont, before we married. I loved him enough to endure 60 nights of him sneaking into Dinah Fowler's bed, all to secure his place as the Beaumonts' next don. It wasn't until I heard about Leander and Dinah's wedding that I realized he hadn't even bothered to hide it from me. After putting Ryan to bed, I stepped out onto the balcony and pulled out my phone to book an international flight. I stared at the flight details on my screen, my mind blank.

A message arrived seconds later. I just saw your calls. Natasha wasn’t feeling well tonight. What happened? The message he sent made no sense to me; My son was dead under a white sheet ten feet away from me, and my husband had sent me a message about another woman's comfort. My fingers moved mechanically across the screen. His call came in again and this time I picked it. I answered. Neither of us spoke first. I could hear him breathing from the other end of the call "Tina." His voice came out finally. "I'm so sorry."

Of course, I missed it. There had been a time when I saw us married, having kids together. There was a time when I couldn't even bring myself to imagine a future without her in it, as my wife. Having Ria in my bed was a dream come true after many years has gone by, only now, and it was at a cost. “I miss it. I really do,” I confessed. She nodded “But I married Lara.” The words sat heavily on my chest. Because for all my complaints, for all the times I'd convinced myself that our marriage was a mistake, Lara had stayed around. With me. Patiently.

I felt the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction I never thought I would say this ,after all the truamatic event but 'i am grateful,I married my stupid husband' THE END

Ryan said as he looked at his watch. “How do I look?” I asked him as I twirled around, just as he looked up from his watch. "Adequate,” he said with a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “Is that all you can say?” I asked while faking an angry reaction. “We are late,” he said as he walked out, paying me no attention. I just sighed as I followed him. “You know, if you want to stay married to me forever, you are going to have to learn how to give good compliments,” I told him as we entered into his marriage.

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?”