WE ARE HALTING BOOK UPLOAD FOR THE NEXT 48 HOURS DUE TO UNAVOIDABLE CIRCUMSTANCES. UPLOADS WILL BE RESUMED AFTER 48 HOURS.

We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

You May Now Kill the Bride: Part 2 – Chapter 17


My hands were still shaking and my body felt cold as I helped Grandpa Bud to his feet, and he lumbered out of the room without another word.

Robby shook his head. “I mean, wow. What a weird night.”

“Yeah, weird,” I muttered. I was struggling to force that frightening picture from my mind.

“I can’t believe you did spells and, like, didn’t tell me,” Robby said.

“Why spoil the surprise?” I replied.

He stared at me. He has no sense of humor. “Harmony, teach me.”

“What?”

“Come on! Teach me how to do things like that!”

I frowned at him. “Why? What for?”

“Well . . . maybe I could cast a spell on Mom and Dad to make them like Nikki.”

“That would need to be a very powerful spell,” I said.

“No. Seriously—”

“Get out of here,” I said, opening the door. “I’m not teaching you any magic tonight, and I’m sure you’re dying to call Nikki and tell her about the squirrels.”

He stopped at the door. “Should I tell her you caused the squirrel stampede?”

“Don’t you dare!” I shouted. “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone, Robby. I’m serious.” I waved my hands like I was casting a spell. “I’ll turn you into a frog. No. I’ll turn you into a wart on a frog. Do you get what I’m saying?”

He laughed. “My sister the witch.”

“Sorceress!” I called after him. Then he disappeared down the hall to his room.

I stood at the door, my hand gripping the knob, taking deep breaths, trying to feel calmer. I couldn’t decide what to do next. I had an impulse to go to the hotel bar and see if any of the cute guys Doug had invited were there.

I always read about people who hook up at weddings. I mean, it would take my mind off being caught by Grandpa Bud, and the worry that my little dabbling in magic might get out.

But frozen there at the door, staring out into the glare of the long hallway, I suddenly felt terrible. A wave of guilt washed over me, so powerful I felt weak at the knees.

I’m not a good person like Marissa, I’ll admit it. Marissa would never think about going to the bar to find someone to hook up with on the night before my wedding. She’s a total straight arrow, and it works for her.

Maybe Marissa was the answer. I should go see her. Not to confess. Forget that. But to be a good, supportive sister on the night before her wedding.

I only meant to be a little naughty, not to ruin her weekend entirely. We’ve never been the closest, but I knew I’d feel better if I talked to her and showed her I was here for her.

I clicked the room door behind me and started down the hall. I could hear Robby on the phone in the next room. I prayed he wasn’t snitching on me, telling Nikki that I was behind all the bizarre happenings.

Two girls I didn’t recognize passed me. They were about my age, around seventeen. One was blond; the other had red hair in a cute bob. They must have been Doug’s guests. One carried an ice bucket, the other a couple of bottled Cokes. We said hi but we didn’t stop.

I knocked on Marissa’s door. “Marissa! Are you in there?”

I heard some shuffling sounds. Then footsteps padding across the room. Marissa pulled open the door and couldn’t hide her surprise that it was me. “Oh. Hello.”

She had changed into a loose silky nightgown that came down past her knees. She was barefoot. Her dark hair was pulled back off her shoulders into a messy topknot. I saw immediately that her eyes were red-rimmed. Had she been crying?

“Are you okay?” I said.

“No.” She stepped back so I could enter the room. I gazed around. It was as neat as if no one was staying in it. All of her clothes were stowed away in the closet and drawers, I imagined. Her wedding dress was draped over the armchair.

We both dropped onto the edge of the bed. For a moment I couldn’t take my eyes off her light blue toenails. Marissa never bothered with things like nail polish. But now she was all decorated, blue fingers, blue toes. (It’s her favorite color. Her eyes are blue, too. So pale blue that sometimes they’re gray.)

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She scrunched up her face. “Everything.”

I took her hand. It was kind of awkward. I mean, we never hold each other’s hands. “Tell me. What’s so terrible?”

She sighed. “Well . . . where should I start?” Then it all spilled out of her in one breathless burst. “Doug is being a beast, and I don’t know why. Uncle Kenny says he’s going to sue the chef because of all the feathers. Two of Doug’s cousins sprained their ankles, tripping over squirrels on the lawn. Aunt Dora may have broken her hip. They took her to the hospital in town. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?

“The woman who is supposed to do my hair and makeup tomorrow just called and said she’s too sick to come. I just checked the weather online and it says rain for tomorrow.”

She was gasping now, her chest heaving up and down.

“Take a breath,” I said. I squeezed her hand, then she pulled hers away.

“I’m not going to cry. I don’t want a puffy face at my wedding. But I really wish I could. So far, this wedding is a disaster. I can’t decide if it’s a comedy or a tragedy.”

“Choose comedy,” I said. “Listen, Marissa, it’s going to be beautiful. The weather way up here is always different from what they say. I’ll bet it’ll be bright sunshine.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know . . .”

“Do you honestly think yours is the first wedding where things are tense?” I was trying to be sweet and understanding, but somehow that didn’t come out the way I wanted. Why did I have so much trouble being sympathetic to her?

“So some crazy things happened,” I continued. “But just think . . . the sun will rise, and tomorrow will be a totally different day. Everything will be different. You’ll be married! Can you believe it?”

She didn’t smile. Her eyes locked on mine. “I know you don’t like Doug,” she said.

“Yes, I do—” I started.

“I know you don’t,” Marissa said softly. “But he’ll be a good husband. He’s steady and reliable. He’ll take good care of me.”

What a weird, old-fashioned thing to say.

“I like Doug,” I said. It sounded awkward, at least to me. “Everyone likes Doug.”

She just gazed back at me, her face a blank now.

I knew that Doug wasn’t the love of Marissa’s life. Everyone knew it. Aiden Murray was the love of her life. She met him in college, and she adored him.

When she brought Aiden home to meet our family, Marissa was so excited she could barely speak. It was obvious to all of us that he was crazy about her, too.

And then I ruined it for them.

I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t. But I did ruin everything for them, and I know it’s the reason why Marissa and I will never be close.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset