Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Marriage.

Why Celebrities Are Choosing Radiant Cut Engagement Rings
Celebrity engagement rings have always influenced jewelry trends, but recently one diamond style has been stealing the spotlight—the radiant cut engagement ring. Seen in high-profile proposals, red carpet appearances, and social media announcements, this diamond shape has become a favorite among celebrities who want brilliance, elegance, and individuality in one stunning piece.
By layladiamondsadarsh diamonds2 months ago in Marriage
The Unwinding
Arthur wrestled the damn thing through the doorway, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The grandfather clock was taller than him, dark oak, ornate, and smelled faintly of dust and forgotten cigars. It was another one of his 'finds,' dragged home from a dusty estate sale he’d sworn was going to yield a fortune. Clara stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "Another relic, Art? What’s this one supposed to do, tell us it's time for the apocalypse?"
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Mirage I Chose
The desert was not supposed to be on the map. Yet there it was—stretching endlessly before me, pale gold under a white, merciless sun. I stood at the edge of it, holding a compass that refused to point anywhere with certainty. Its needle spun slowly, as if confused by my hesitation.
By Farhad2 months ago in Marriage
The Drowned City of Dishes
The kitchen smelled of burnt toast and yesterday’s regrets, a familiar perfume in their small house. Arthur scraped his fork against the ceramic plate, a thin, grating sound that pulled Eleanor’s gaze from the window. Rain lashed against the glass, just like it had for three days straight, blurring the world outside into a watercolor smear.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Weight of Water
Sarah often caught herself sketching it on napkins, in the margins of bills, sometimes just tracing the outline of it on a fogged-up windowpane. Not *their* cramped kitchen window, mind you, but the window of a house that belonged to her only in stories. Mark's lake house. The one he’d summered in as a boy, up in northern Michigan, a quiet pocket of the world swallowed by ancient pines and the slow, deep breath of freshwater. She’d never set foot on its sun-bleached porch, never felt the splintery wood of its dock under her bare feet, never heard the slap of waves against its pebbled shore, but she knew it. She *felt* it. Like a memory stolen, or perhaps gifted, over years of shared beds and whispered confessions, a phantom limb of her own history.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
How to Plan Your Honeymoon in Seychelles: A Step-by-Step Planning Guide
Planning a honeymoon in Seychelles feels less like organising a trip and more like deciding how you want the first chapter of your marriage to feel. The islands have a strange way of slowing down your breathing from the moment you arrive. You see the curves of the beaches, the enormous granite boulders, the way the light hits the water in the late afternoon, and suddenly, even conversations sound softer. So when you plan this trip, you’re not just checking boxes; you’re shaping the mood you want the two of you to carry home.
By Claudia Fennel2 months ago in Marriage
Beyond the Mirror’s Lie
In the town of Marrow field, beauty had rules. It lived in clear skin, symmetrical smiles, and confident posture. It walked the streets wearing approval like perfume, receiving glances that lingered and doors that opened easily. Those who fit its shape were welcomed without question. Those who did not were quietly taught where they belonged.
By Farhad2 months ago in Marriage
Puddle Reflections
They walked, the asphalt still dry beneath their worn shoes, but the air thick, heavy. Mark's arm brushed Sarah's, a ghost of a touch, neither pulling away, neither leaning in. Another Tuesday night. Another forced smile at the host, another plate of pasta, another conversation that skittered across the surface of their lives like a flat stone on still water. The diner's fluorescent glow had been too harsh, the chatter too loud, but the silence between them now, on the street, felt louder. She chewed on her lip, tasting the faint bitterness of cheap wine, a metallic tang of something else she couldn’t quite name.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Glass Petals
Mary found herself staring at the crystal garden again, the one tucked into the sunroom's corner, under the dusty skylight. Thirty years. Thirty years since John had brought it home, a ridiculous, glittering monstrosity of spun glass and polished quartz, meant to capture light and refract it into a million promises. Now, it just sat there, a miniature cityscape of forgotten dreams, each delicate petal coated in a fine, grey film. A few of the slender stems had snapped, the tiny, polished facets dull where the light used to catch, make them burn. She reached out a hesitant finger, wiped a patch clean. It still had a shine, beneath all that grime, a faint, stubborn glow.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Unspoken Glow
Leo shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the cheap fabric of his jacket doing little against the damp chill creeping up his arms. The rain, a steady drizzle for an hour now, had turned the street into a dark, shimmering mirror. Headlights smeared into halos. Neon signs—the angry red of the bar down the block, the sickly green of the pharmacy, the stuttering blue of the laundromat across the street—bled into the puddles, distorting, elongating. Each reflection a broken promise, felt like. His breath plumed in front of him, thin and fleeting.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Ghost of Ballynahown
Eleanor folded laundry, the familiar smell of fabric softener clinging to the clean cotton, but her mind drifted. Not to the kids' school forms, not to the grocery list tacked to the fridge. To the salt spray of Ballynahown. Mark’s Ballynahown. She’d never set foot on that rocky shore, never felt the wind whipping off the Atlantic that he swore tasted different, colder, cleaner. But she knew it. Knew the way the low, winter light hit the thatched roofs, saw the faint sheen of rain on the cobblestones, heard the distant, mournful cry of gulls. It was a place she’d built, brick by imaginary brick, from Mark’s stories.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Weight of White
Mark couldn’t sleep. He’d tried, for what felt like hours, turning from his left side to his right, punching the pillow into submission, then giving up on it entirely. Sarah was a quiet mound beside him, her breathing even, deep. A faint, silver light seeped in through the gaps in the curtains. Not the moon, not streetlights. Something else. He pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his feet finding the cool wood floor with a soft thud.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage