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My Groom Lost Me on Our Wedding Day Novel Cover

My Groom Lost Me on Our Wedding Day

During her wedding tea ceremony, Donna watches in horror as rigged teacups explode, drenching her parents in wine, cream, and chili water. While her father falls and the crowd laughs, the culprit—her fiancé Derrick's secretary, Mariz Newman—proudly admits to the cruel prank. Instead of standing up for his bride, Derrick defends his secretary's actions and accuses Donna of being petty. Seeing her humiliated parents still trying to protect her, Donna decides she has had enough and calls off the wedding.
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Chapter 1

As my parents lifted their teacups during the wedding tea ceremony, both cups exploded without warning.

Red wine, whipped cream, and chili water burst into their faces, drenching them from head to toe.

My mother's brand-new silk dress was soaked in an instant, thick cream clinging to her hair. My father instinctively reached out to shield her, but his foot landed on a shard of broken porcelain. He lost his balance and crashed heavily onto the floor.

Laughter rang through the banquet hall.

Derrick's secretary, Mariz Newman, laughed so hard she had to clutch her stomach.

"Wow! They look just like two clumsy water buffaloes!"

She grinned without the slightest hint of guilt. "I added a little surprise to your wedding. I didn't expect those trick cups to be so sensitive."

My entire body trembled with anger. Yet she only fanned the flames.

"Come on, Donna, don't get mad. The internet says brides should stay calm on their wedding day. If you keep a peaceful heart, your marriage will go smoothly!"

Before I could say a word, Derrick grabbed my wrist and held me back.

His brows knitted together as he lowered his voice. "Mariz was only trying to liven up the atmosphere. Can't you see everyone is laughing? Don't be so petty and ungrateful."

My mother quietly wiped the cream from her face. Her eyes were already red, but she still forced herself to smile at me.

"Donna... we're fine. This is your wedding day. Don't argue because of us."

At that moment, I looked at my parents-covered in wine and cream, humiliated in front of everyone-yet they were still trying their best to protect Derrick's dignity.

For the first time, this wedding felt utterly disgusting.

My parents couldn't bear to let me be embarrassed. But Derrick could.

If that's the case... Then this wedding is off!

——

My father braced himself against the floor, trying to stand. Blood seeped from his palm, leaving a crimson smear across the red carpet.

Mariz immediately frowned. "Uncle, please don't get blood on the carpet."

The moment my mother heard that, she hurriedly crouched down and frantically wiped at the stain with her sleeve.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to."

Standing over them, Mariz sighed as if she were the reasonable one. "I warned everyone beforehand that the cups had a mechanism inside. Maybe Uncle and Auntie were just too nervous to hear me."

The whispers around us instantly shifted. "So she did warn them."

"They must be country bumpkins. Probably their first time attending a fancy wedding."

"No wonder they couldn't react in time."

My fingers shook with rage.

"Mariz, you-"

Before I could finish, Derrick stepped in front of her. "Mariz already apologized. Besides, your parents said they're fine."

He frowned at me, keeping his voice low enough that only I could hear. "There are so many guests here today. Do you really have to make such a scene that everyone ends up embarrassed?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

My father's hand was still bleeding. My mother was shivering from the cold in her soaked clothes. Yet the only person he was worried about... was Mariz.

Afraid I would lose control, my father gently tugged on my sleeve. "Donna... let it go."

"Your mother and I will clean ourselves up. You should go back and finish the ceremony."

Mariz immediately chimed in. "The lounge is full of Derrick's relatives right now. Why don't Uncle and Auntie use the storage room in the back instead?There's a mop and some cleaning rags in there."

"Oh, and please hurry. The whipped cream is dripping onto the floor, and it's really hard to clean."

My mother's face turned pale for a brief second before she lowered her head. "I'm sorry. We'll clean it up right away."

She was the one who had been humiliated. Yet she apologized as though she were the one at fault.

Bent over, she kept saying "sorry" as she walked away.

I followed my parents toward the back. The storage room was cramped and dim.

As my mother stepped inside, the hem of her dress caught on a rusty metal shelf, tearing a long slit through the fabric.

She quickly covered it with her hand. "It's alright. The lights in the banquet hall are dim. No one will notice."

Then she opened her handbag. Inside lay a brand-new shawl, folded with meticulous care.

"I was saving this... I wanted to put it on before walking onto the stage."

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