❤️𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 to Marry my 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 ❤

Am Marrying my Best Friend?

My name is Layla Brooks, Ryan West is my best friend, and this is our beautiful love story.

I always thought the most ridiculous thing my family could ever do was to actually try to set me up with our pastor's son.

Well, I was wrong.

Because apparently, the new most ridiculous thing is this:

I’m marrying my best friend.

And not in the oh-we’ve-finally-realized-we-love-each-other kind of way.

No.

In the your-grandfathers-made-a-deal-years-ago-and-if-you-don’t-get-married-we-lose-the-family-restaurant kind of way.

Which is why I’m sitting here in my mother’s overstuffed floral living room, staring at Ryan, my Ryan, while his mother explains the whole insane “legacy marriage” plan like she’s reading a grocery list.

Ryan looks as shocked as I am, except, no, wait. He doesn’t. He looks rather, smug.

Oh no.

That infuriating little smirk is playing across his face.

“What?” I snap. “You look like someone just told you cake is free for life.”

He shrugs, leaning back like he owns the place. “Just wondering how long it’ll take before you start planning the guest list.”

“I’m not,” I choke, glaring at him. “This is insane. We are not,” I wave my hands between us “...marriage material.”

His grin widens. “You’re saying I’m not husband material? That’s a little hurtful.”

I throw a pillow at him.

If my mother’s voice had been any more casual, I might have thought she was telling me to pass the spatula.

Instead, she sat there sipping her tea, pinky finger raised like a queen, while casually announcing,

“Lila, dear, you and Ryan will be getting married next month.”

I froze with my spoon halfway to my mouth. “I’m sorry, WHAT?”

Across the table, Ryan, my best friend since I was seven, and my personal supplier of sarcasm and emotional blackmail, my partner in salsa dance, blinked at me with maddening calm.

“Wow,” he said, “and here I was worried you’d never propose.”

“RYAN!” I hissed, my pulse skyrocketing.

Both sets of parents were beaming like this was the plot twist of the century. My dad actually clapped Ryan’s dad on the back. “We always knew it’d happen eventually.”

“No, no, no.” I shook my head, my spoon still suspended in midair. “This isn’t one of those cheesy family reunion jokes, right? You’re messing with us?”

Ryan’s mom leaned in conspiratorially. “Darling, when you were both toddlers, your fathers promised that if neither of you was married by twenty-five, you’d marry each other. And Ryan turned Twenty Seven, and you twenty three with zero love life. So we decided to seal this off. My dear, isn't that very romantic.”

“ROMANTIC?” I squeaked. “That’s... that’s arranged marriage! With a dash of childhood hostage situation! It's insane!!”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, stretching. “I, for one, am flattered. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

I wanted to throw my soup at him. Instead, I swallowed hard and forced my voice to stay calm.

“Ryan. Kitchen. Now.”

Ryan gently followed Lila lazily into the kitchen.

I slammed the kitchen door shut the moment we were inside. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “Kind of. My dad mentioned it last year, but I thought he was joking.”

“You thought? And you didn’t think to warn me?!”

He shrugged. “I figured if it ever came up, you’d just... I don’t know... refuse? You’re stubborn like that.”

“Refuse?” I jabbed a finger into his chest. “They’re acting like this is legally binding. I can’t just, just,” I flailed my hands. “Marry you!”

He grinned, maddeningly unfazed. “Oh, come on. We already spend all our free time together, we argue like an old married couple, and I know your coffee order by heart. We’d ace this marriage thing.”

“This isn’t funny!” I snapped.

His smirk softened. “I know. But... what if we just play along for a bit? Maybe they’ll drop it when they realize we’re not taking it seriously.”

I groaned, but a small, ridiculous part of me wondered what it would be like, to be his for real. Which was absurd. Totally absurd.

The test came sooner than expected...

Two days later, we were “invited, no, actually forced, to attend my cousin’s engagement dinner, together, as a “practice couple.”

I wore a floral dress. Ryan wore a suit that looked illegal on him. His tie was crooked, and when I reached to fix it, my fingers brushed the warm skin of his neck. I pulled away too fast, nearly choking myself with embarrassment.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. Knuckle head.

We walked into the restaurant hand-in-hand, awkwardly. My palm was sweaty, his grip was too loose, and from the outside we probably looked like two people holding hands for the first time ever.

At dinner, my cousin leaned in and whispered, “So, when did you two finally confess?”

Ryan didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, she’s been in love with me for years. I finally gave in out of pity.”

I kicked him under the table. He kicked back.

When the dessert came, I caught him looking at me. Not teasing. Just looking. Like he was memorizing the way I smiled when I thought no one was watching.

It made my stomach flip in a way I didn’t want to think about.

Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. My brain was stuck on the way his hand had fit around mine, the way he’d pulled out my chair at dinner without even thinking.

💌My phone buzzed. Ryan, You up?

Ten minutes later, we were sitting on my porch, wrapped in blankets.

“I keep thinking about how weird this is,” I said. “One minute we’re just, us. Next minute, we’re supposed to be husband and wife.”

Ryan’s eyes were shadowed in the porch light. “You know, I’ve thought about it before. What it’d be like. Being with you.”

My heart skipped. “What?”

“Don’t freak out.” He gave a half-smile. “It’s just, you’re my favorite person. Always have been. I guess marrying your best friend isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

I didn’t know what to say. So I just whispered, “You’re my favorite too.”

One month later

A month later, I stood at the altar. My hands were shaking so badly I thought I might drop the bouquet.

This was it. The day my life became a rom-com or a train wreck.

Ryan walked toward me in a crisp black suit, and I swear time slowed. He stopped in front of me, his eyes locking on mine.

“I had this whole speech planned,” he began, “but I’m scrapping it. Lila, you’re the first person I want to tell when something goes wrong. You’re the last person I want to see before I sleep. And you make me laugh when I feel like falling apart. If this is a trap our parents set, I’m glad I walked into it.”

My throat tightened. “You’re such an idiot,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision.

He grinned. “Yeah. Your idiot.”

And then he kissed me.

And just like that, I stopped wondering whether I could survive being married to my best friend, because I realized I’d been halfway in love with him all along.

Life After Wedding

After our wedding came the drama, my planned drama... hehehe!

Ryan dropped his suitcase in the middle of the living room with a dramatic sigh, the kind only a man who had lost an argument on his wedding day could produce.

“You know, most couples start marriage with a romantic honeymoon, not an audition for a low-budget horror film.”

Lila was already peeling back the dusty curtains, sunlight spilling in just enough to highlight the floating particles in the air. “You’re being dramatic. This house is charming.”

Ryan pointed toward the ceiling. “A bat just waved at me. With its wing. Inside the house.”

She glanced up, squinting. “It’s just part of the wildlife.”

“Wildlife? Lila, I can handle squirrels. I can handle raccoons. I draw the line at winged vampires sharing my airspace.”

She rolled her eyes, strolling into the kitchen. “You said you wanted adventure in our marriage.”

“Yeah, like hiking or learning salsa dancing together, not avoiding possession by whatever’s living in that upstairs bedroom.” He followed her in, inspecting the sink. The faucet turned on by itself, coughed out brown water, and then stopped. Ryan stepped back like it had threatened him.

“This place is alive.”

Lila was laughing now, which annoyed him more. “You’re just looking for flaws because you didn’t pick the place.”

“Of course I didn’t pick it! I sent you three listings with words like modern, fully renovated, and doesn’t come with unexplained cold spots. You sent me a grainy photo of this place with a note that said, It’s cute!”

“It is cute.” She tilted her head toward him. “Besides, it was a bargain.”

Ryan gave her a long, slow look. “Yeah. Do you know why it was a bargain, Lila? Because no one survives long enough to pay the mortgage.”

Just then, there was a loud thump from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable creak of slow, deliberate footsteps.

Lila froze. “Okay, that wasn’t me.”

Ryan grabbed his suitcase and edged toward the door. “Alright, we’re returning this house. Do they have an exchange policy?”

She reached for his arm, still smiling despite the goosebumps rising on her skin. “We can survive this. We’re married now. It’s us against the world.”

“Lila,” Ryan said seriously, “I love you, but if a ghost offers me a better housing deal, I might take it.”

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the house seemed to exhale, which was unsettling, because houses weren’t supposed to exhale.

Ryan was already in bed, lying stiff as a corpse. “Why,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling, “does the mattress feel like it's breathing?”

Lila patted the bed beside her. “It’s just old springs. Stop being so jumpy.”

“No, old springs creak. This bed is pulsing. I think it has a heartbeat.” He sat up and pressed his ear to the sheets. “Yup. Definitely a heartbeat. I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” she said firmly. “This is our wedding bed. We’re going to cherish it.”

“Cherish it? Lila, we are currently lying on a giant fabric lung.”

Before she could answer, the wardrobe door across the room creaked open, slowly, like it had been waiting for dramatic timing. Both of them froze.

A faint whisper drifted out, low and breathy. “Liiiillllaaaa…”

Lila blinked. “Did, did it just say my name?”

Ryan clutched the blanket to his chest. “Oh, it knows your name? Great. I’m just the plus-one in my own house haunting.”

The whisper came again, this time giggling.

“Alright, that’s it.” Ryan swung his legs over the side of the bed. “We’re leaving. Tonight.”

Lila grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare abandon me on our first night!”

“Lila, if the wardrobe starts handing out wedding gifts, I am gone. I’m not unwrapping anything from a dimension I didn’t RSVP to.”

She burst into laughter, even as the floorboards groaned under invisible footsteps. “You’re impossible.”

“No, I’m sensible. Which is exactly why I’m sleeping with the lights on, and possibly holding a crucifix.”

“Okay, you win,” Lila finally gasped between fits of laughter. “Let’s just go sleep in a hotel instead.”

She was still grinning, proud of herself for scaring the life out of him. It was payback for how comfortable he’d been getting with the whole “we’re married now” thing.

Only, her own prank was terribly starting to kinda scare her too.

The wardrobe gave another slow creak, the bed gave one last ominous pulse, and suddenly the joke wasn’t so funny anymore.

Handsome in hand, they bolted out of the strange, haunted-not-haunted house and didn’t stop running until they were inside the warm, ghost-free glow of a nearby hotel lobby.

Ryan leaned against the wall, panting. “You know, for a wedding night, this is already more action than I signed up for.”

Lila smirked. “Consider it our first adventure.”

“Adventure?” he said, eyes wide. “That was cardio with demons.”

Later that night, in the quiet comfort of their hotel bed, Ryan lay on his side, the calm couples in bed, sharing their first night together, and the silence between them was maddening, eyes locked on Lila’s. The silence stretched, warm and full of something unspoken.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lika asked

And Ryan suddenly leaned closer.

“What are you doing, Ryan?” she whispered, startled.

“It’s time for husband duty,” he said, his voice so serious it sent a thrill down her spine.

Before she could react, his lips claimed hers in a deep, urgent kiss. Her heart stuttered, then soared. She watched Ryan her childhood friend kissed her like they were sweet romantic couple, and she felt like kissing him back, perhaps, matching his intensity, but hell, it seemed weird like crazy, Ryan? Kissing me? Lila couldn't explain what she was feeling right now, but God, she loved that kiss. Because in that moment, Lila realized she might already love him more than she dared admit.