The moment the engagement was announced, the world lost its mind.
Mon was already beloved—the golden child, the bright star, the sweetheart—and Sam? Sam was powerful, mysterious, and fiercely devoted to her fiancée. Their love story had captivated everyone around them.
And when the daughter of Freen Sarocha Chankimha and Rebecca 'Becky' Patricia Armstrong, FreenBecky's for short, decided to get married?
Every top-tier designer, event planner, and luxury brand practically fought for a chance to be part of it.
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The first thing Mon wanted?
The perfect dress.
And, naturally, only the best designers in the world lined up for the honor.
"Mon, darling, anything you want—anything—it's yours," one designer gushed, hands dramatically clasped together.
Another, a famous French designer, was practically begging. "Mademoiselle Mon, I have designed for queens, for royalty! But you? You will be my greatest masterpiece!"
Mon, ever the humble one, blushed. "Oh, wow, um—"
Sam? Not so much.
She leaned over, whispering, "I think they'd fight to the death if you asked them to."
Mon laughed. "I'd rather not start a war over my wedding dress."
Eventually, after trying on at least twenty gowns, Mon finally found the one.
It was elegant, timeless, and breathtaking—a perfect reflection of who she was.
When she stepped out in front of her family, everyone fell silent.
Even Becky, who always had something to say, just stared.
"Oh," Freen whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh, sweetheart."
Pin, ever the emotional one, started crying immediately.
Sam?
Sam couldn't breathe.
Yeah, she was there, with none of that stereotypical 'the bride can't see the other bride's wedding dress' nonsense. Sam was her forever, and if anyone tried anything, they'd have to face her first.
"Mon," she choked out, voice thick. "You look..."
Mon tilted her head, waiting.
Sam swallowed. "Like a dream."
Becky finally snapped out of it. "Okay, you win. That's the dress."
Mon beamed.
And just like that—
The first piece of their wedding puzzle fell into place.
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The next thing on Mon's list?
Her bridesmaids.
And of course, there was one person she absolutely needed by her side.
That evening, as Pin was curled up in the living room with a book, Mon sat beside her, holding a small box.
"Hey, Pin?" Mon said gently.
Pin looked up, smiling. "Yeah?"
Mon took a deep breath.
Then—she handed her the box.
Pin blinked. "What's this?"
"Open it," Mon urged.
With curious fingers, Pin untied the ribbon and lifted the lid—
Inside was a delicate bracelet, engraved with the words:
Will you be my bridesmaid?
Pin gasped.
"Oh my god."
Mon grinned. "I couldn't imagine getting married without my baby sister standing beside me."
Pin covered her mouth, overwhelmed. "Mon..."
"Is that a yes?" Mon teased, nudging her.
Pin threw herself into Mon's arms.
"Of course, it's a yes, you idiot!"
Mon laughed, hugging her tightly.
And in that moment—Pin knew.
This wedding?
Was going to be something unforgettable.
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Once Mon's bridesmaids were secured, it was time to lock in the venue and cake.
And this was where being the daughter of two living legends had its perks.
Because when Freen and Becky Armstrong-Chankimha walked into any place?
Doors opened. People bowed. Choices were endless.
"Oh my god," Sam muttered, watching as one luxury venue manager practically fell over himself to offer them the grandest ballroom in the country. "Do they always get this treatment?"
Mon giggled. "Always."
Pin, standing beside them, added, "You should've seen what happened when I tried to buy a book last week. The bookstore owner almost cried and gave me half the store for free."
Sam shook her head, deeply impressed. "You Armstrong-Chankimha women are terrifying."
Mon just winked.
Eventually, they found the perfect venue—a breathtaking garden, adorned with glowing fairy lights and blooming flowers, straight out of a fairytale.
And the cake?
Well—
Let's just say the moment Freen and Becky walked into the bakery, the pastry chef nearly fainted.
"You honor me by even standing in my humble bakery," the chef said, voice shaking.
Becky, grinning, nudged Mon. "Pick whatever you want, baby. I think this guy would sell his soul for us."
Mon laughed and pointed to a five-tier masterpiece decorated with delicate sugar flowers and gold accents.
"We'll take that one."
The chef wiped away tears. "A masterpiece for a masterpiece."
Sam, leaning close to Mon, whispered, "This is getting out of hand."
Mon just smiled.
"Welcome to my life."
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After weeks of planning, every single detail was falling into place.
The dress? Perfect.
The venue? Dreamlike.
The cake? A work of art.
And with their families backing them, their friends supporting them, and an entire nation ready to witness their love story unfold—
Mon and Sam were ready.
Because the wedding of the century?
Was about to begin.
YOU ARE READING
When the Story Continues (Sequel to When the Script Changes)
RomanceSequel to the story "When the Script Changes." This one, will follow Freen and Becky as they navigate life as new parents, balancing their love, responsibilities, and the chaos of raising Mon and Pin while still keeping their relationship strong.
