The Ex Vows by Jessica Joyce EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Jessica Joyce
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.3 MB
- Price: Free
Thirteen years later
This wedding is cursed
“Not again,” I mutter.
To the untrained eye, this text probably looks like a joke, or the
beginning of one of those chain emails our elders get duped into forwarding
to twenty of their nearest and dearest, lest they inherit multigenerational bad
luck.
In actuality, it’s been Adam’s mantra for the past eight months.
Adam is the brother I never had and I’m truly honored to be along for
the ride on his wedding journey. But had sixth-grade Georgia anticipated I’d
be fielding forty-seven daily texts from my more-unhinged-by-the-minute
best friend, I would’ve thought twice about complimenting his Hannah
Montana shirt the day we met.
My Spidey senses tingle with this text, though. It hasn’t been delivered
in aggressive caps lock, nor is it accompanied by a chaotic menagerie of
GIFs (my kingdom for a Michael Scott alternative). Whatever has happened
now might actually be an emergency.
Then again, the wedding is ten days away. At this point, anything that
isn’t objectively awesome is a disaster.
I pluck my phone off my desk, typing, What’s the damage?
A bubble immediately pops up, disappears, reappears, then stops again.
“Great sign.”
It’s nearly four p.m. on Wednesday, the day before my week-long PTO
for the wedding starts, and I still have half a page of unchecked boxes on
my to-do list, plus a detailed While I’m Away email to draft for my boss. I
can’t leave Adam hanging in his moment of need, though. What kind of
best woman would I be?
No better than the largely absent best man? comes the uncharitable
punchline. I slam the door on that thought. It’s not like I’ve minded
executing most of the best-people activities; it’s been a godsend for multiple
reasons. It’s just so typical of him to—
I catch my own eye in the computer’s reflection, delivering a silent
message with the downward slash of my dark eyebrows: Shut. Up. I’d
rather think about curses than anything tangentially related to the subject of
Eli Mora.
Not that I believe in curses at all.
Except…deep down, I do worry that Adam’s been hounded by bad vibes
since he proposed to his fiancée, Grace Song, on New Year’s Eve.
Their
plans have involved a comedy of errors that have escalated from bummer to
oh shit: the wrong wedding dress ordered by the bridal salon, names
misspelled on their printed wedding invitations twice, and—the one that
nearly got me to believe—their wedding planner quit three months ago
because his Bernedoodle had amassed such a following on social media that
he was making triple his salary as her manager.
For Adam, whose natural temperament hovers somewhere near live
wire, it’s been a constant test of his sanity. Even Grace, who’s brutally chill,
the perfect emotional foil for Adam, has been fraying.
But then, she would’ve been fine eloping. Every new disaster probably
only further solidifies the urge to book it to Vegas.
Adam’s texts tumble over one another:
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