Wedding Night Stories Novels & Stories

Memories of the night before flooded my thoughts. There was no question that the timid girl back at the capo’s was no longer a caterpillar. She was a beautiful butterfly, no longer caught in her cocoon. While I’d watched Isabella spread her wings at the apartments, I didn’t know what to expect on our wedding night. I’d heard stories of couples who didn’t consummate their marriage until further down the road. If my wife had asked for us to wait, I would have complied. I might be a monster when it came to running our streets and dealing with our enemies, but I wasn’t and never would be with the woman I wanted at my side for the rest of my life.

My mother-in-law glared at me coldly, blaming me for being unreasonable and demanding divorce so lightly, embarrassing her family. My own mother pinched my arm forcefully, while flashing an apologetic smile at my in-laws. My stepfather snorted coolly, scoffing at me for being an embarrassment before dragging my mother out of the wedding hall. And having had their entertainment, the guests dispersed, not forgetting to shoot me sympathetic looks before they left. Thunder clapped from the horizon, soon followed by a downpour. I was still wondering how things turned out like this. The wedding hall was halfway up a hill.

It would take a week for the news of the bride change to make its way through the family's internal channels. That whole week, all of Chicago's underworld was buzzing. People said I'd actually given up a wedding that was right within my grasp. Others said Sofia Colombo must have some serious pull—making Vincent swap brides right before he was set to take over. I paid no mind to any of it. On the fourth afternoon before the wedding, Vincent's most trusted man, Paul, showed up at the back door of my private clinic, carrying a brand-new Louis Vuitton suitcase.

There was no smile on their faces and it gave a hint that it wasn’t a funny conversation going on. Since Oliver left the hall, she had became less nervous. But now the nervousness returned, doubled. ‘Could it be that he told her husband about last night? And her husband was here to end the wedding?’ She would be the happiest person on earth if the marriage ended but then not at the expense of her parents finding out she slept with a stranger the night before her wedding. She couldn’t tell which was worse. Whether it was because he was a stranger or because he was her brother-in-law.

‘The Wife Who Got Cheated on’ ‘Boaz Johnson tricked into marrying the former heiress of Harry G&G Company’ and numerous others that, at this point, I was tired of revisiting, so I made a mental note to get off social media till everything gets better. Shading my face with the scarf I had brought along, I headed towards my car, ignoring the constant questions they threw my way as they tailed my every movement. “Is it true that you throw yourself at every man you meet? I even heard that one of them came to confront Mr. Boaz.”

I almost can’t look at the texts. It’s like spying. It’s like rubbernecking a car crash. But I have to, even though they make me want to clap my hands over my eyes. Lottie and Ben are having the worst wedding night known to man. No other way to put it. It’s horrendous. It’s ghastly. And it’s all my fault. My stomach is one big guilty, acidy twinge. With every bulletin I feel worse. But it’s all in a good cause, I tell myself sternly, already clicking on the new text.

The entire group is just listening to my husband telling our stories like they were something extravagant. “At a party with his family and friend, and mine.” He was talking about our wedding I realize, my head shaking at him. “I wanted to do it, the time was right, he had this look in his eyes, they were begging me to kiss him. And I leaned in, kissing him.” The crowd goes ballistic, and I tip the beer can over my mouth, draining the last of the cool liquid. He doesn’t get to tell the last story, thank God, I don’t think I would have survived it. We got to leave early, our winning for the game.

“It is nothing serious. Actually, when we spent our girls' night together last night, I told the girls a tale my mother usually told me when I was young” “It was a tale about a young lady who fell in love with an outsider of their town. Everyone was against their engagement with each other, but on their wedding day, the views of the people concerning the young couple changed... after the soon to be bride woke up on her wedding day with red cheeks that symbolized prosperity”. I went ahead and stubbornly touched Valentina's cheeks after she tried to back away from me.

The bottle was almost empty by the time I parked crookedly in front of my aunt and uncle’s house. It was past 2:30 a.m. I made sure I came this time. My eyes were swollen from crying, mascara streaked down my cheeks I got out the car My wedding ring felt like it was burning a hole in my finger. I took it off, throw it on the floor then spat on it. I reach the door. I didn’t even knock softly. I banged on the door until the basement light flicked on.

The groomsmen were stunned. They were here to play pranks on the engaged couple as was custom, but the scene they witnessed made them pause. "You really have some nerve, Carol, making Justin Leeds spend his wedding night with some halfwit!" said one. "Today's your big day! Even jokes have their limits, surely?" Carol Barnes arched a brow impassively. "What's it to you? As his fiancée, I don't mind. What's he got to feel bad for?"