“No Wedding After All”
“Marianne, you’re finally getting married!” Olivia beamed at her daughter. “I’m so glad William proposed! You know how men these days are—all fun and no commitment. But he’s different, so don’t let him slip away.”
“Mum, I’m quite the catch myself,” Marianne teased. “Beautiful, clever—I deserve a prince, honestly.”
“Oh, a prince?” Olivia laughed. “Don’t forget, you’re 35 now. This might be your last chance.”
Marianne cringed at “last chance,” but she didn’t argue. She knew how much her mother worried—no queue of suitors had formed over the years, and Olivia feared Marianne would end up alone, grandchild-less.
The wedding was set for two weeks later. Everything was booked: the best restaurant in Manchester, the guests, even the outfits. Though Marianne still hadn’t settled on a dress—she had another fitting scheduled soon.
Just then, the doorbell rang. “That must be William!” Olivia rushed to greet their esteemed guest.
“Hello, Olivia! Hello, Marianne!” William said warmly. “I never arrive empty-handed—chocolates for you, Olivia, and flowers for Marianne.”
“You shouldn’t have!” Olivia gushed. “I still can’t believe my daughter landed such a marvellous man. Honestly, you’re flawless!”
Marianne and William had only dated six months. She still wondered why he’d chosen her—a simple music teacher—when he worked in city administration. But from day one, he’d made his intentions clear: he wanted a wife.
William was solid, dependable—”a proper catch,” as Olivia put it. Only five years older, yet Marianne often felt like calling him “Mr. William Harrison” out of sheer formality.
“Here, tulips for you,” William said with polite detachment. “Wedding prep all sorted?”
“Almost. Just need to pick a dress and shoes.”
“Make sure you impress my family,” he said sternly. “Spare no expense. Actually—” He pulled out his wallet and left £500 on the dresser. “For wedding bits. Oh, and visit my mum next week. She’ll teach you my favourite recipes. Best avoid domestic disasters early on.”
“William, I’m 35,” Marianne laughed. “I think I know how to boil water. Can’t we just enjoy the romance?”
“No, you’ll learn from her. Her house is spotless, and her cooking’s divine. Imagine the embarrassment if she visits and finds dust!”
Marianne promised she’d go, and William left, citing work. A heaviness settled over her. She longed for lightness, romance—anything but William’s rigid practicality.
The next day, Marianne dragged herself to the bridal salon. She barely glanced at the dresses and picked the first one suggested. Her mood was foul, and she couldn’t pinpoint why.
“This is fine,” she told herself. “I’m marrying well-off, respectable William. Most would envy me. Mum’s thrilled. What more do I want?”
Exhausted, she trudged to the bus stop—no energy for shopping now. Then a voice cut through her thoughts:
“Marianne? Blimey, is that you?”
Her heart lurched. It was Jeremy, her ex—her first real love. He’d left her for another woman years ago, yet here he stood, grinning as if nothing had happened.
“Jeremy! Fancy seeing you here.” She forced a smile. “How’ve you been?”
“Not bad. Got an office nearby. Work’s grand, but the divorce last year? Less so. Anyway—you? Married yet?”
“No, but there’s someone. Not sure it’ll work out,” she lied, cheeks burning.
“Ah. Fancy grabbing lunch? I was just heading out.”
Against her better judgment, she agreed. Memories flooded back—long talks, effortless laughter. Jeremy, tall and fit with those ridiculous hazel eyes, was everything stodgy William wasn’t.
An hour later, Jeremy paid the bill. “I’ll call you,” he said with a smile that made her stomach flip. “Let’s swap numbers—wouldn’t want to lose you again.”
Marianne floated home, convinced fate had intervened. Why else would she bump into Jeremy today?
Olivia pounced the moment she walked in. “Well? Did you get the dress? Shoes?”
“Mum, there isn’t going to be a wedding,” Marianne said flatly, then shut herself in her room.
Olivia gasped. “What? Did William call it off? Marianne, explain!”
“I don’t want a wedding. Or William. D’you think he loves me? He just wants a live-in housekeeper with benefits.”
“Are you mad? He’s a dream! You’ll have security, comfort—what more could you want?”
Marianne sat down, barely containing her grin. “I ran into Jeremy today.”
“That good-for-nothing who dumped you? And you’re throwing away William for him? Marianne, don’t be daft!”
But Marianne had made up her mind. No force on earth would make her marry William now.
Olivia, ever the pragmatist, rang William. Surely he’d talk sense into her.
Instead, he exploded. “You raised her to be this ungrateful? My mum warned me about your lot. Don’t ever call me again!”
Olivia was crushed. Meanwhile, Marianne felt lighter than air—she’d dodged a bullet. Now she just waited for Jeremy’s call.
Days passed. Nothing.
“Busy man,” she told herself. “Needs time.”
A week later, she caved and dialled. Voicemail.
When Jeremy finally rang back, he sounded distracted. “Oh, Marianne! Sorry, work’s mad. Did you need something?”
“Just thought we could grab coffee. Same place?”
There was a pause. “Look, it was great seeing you, but why dredge up the past? There’s no future here. You didn’t read too much into it, did you?”
“Of course not,” she lied, voice cracking. “Just being friendly. Besides, I’m getting married soon.”
She hung up, humiliated. How had she fallen for Jeremy again? Because of him, she’d lost William—and now had neither.
But Olivia, bless her, was wiser than expected. “Better alone than with the wrong man. And Jeremy? Not worth a second thought. You’ll find someone proper.”
Marianne never saw William or Jeremy again. And despite it all, she held onto one certainty: someday, her happy ending would come.
