The morning of my wedding felt like a dream. The kind of dream you never want to wake up from, sunlight streaming through the curtains, the faint hum of laughter downstairs, and my best friends bustling around me with curling irons and champagne. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back.
The lace gown fit perfectly, hugging my frame in all the right places, and the veil framed my face like a whisper. For years, I had imagined this day, the day I would marry Jack. Jack wasn’t just my fiancé.
He was the man who had walked into my life when I had nearly given up on love. We met three years ago when I moved to the city for work. I was standing in line at a coffee shop, fumbling with my phone, when someone behind me paid for my drink after I accidentally left my wallet at home.
That someone was Jack. From then on, everything between us had felt easy. He was kind, attentive, and made me laugh more than anyone else.
He worked in finance, often long hours, but always made time for me. When he proposed last spring under a canopy of fairy lights in his backyard, I said yes without hesitation. And now, here we were on our wedding day.
The venue was a small vineyard just outside the city, draped in soft white linens and twinkling lights. Guests began to arrive as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of peach and gold. I could see them from the bridal suite: friends from college, relatives I hadn’t seen in years, everyone smiling, chatting, ready to celebrate.
“Ready, Wendy?” my maid of honor, Julia, asked as she adjusted my veil. I nodded, my heart hammering in my chest. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Music began to play the soft notes of a piano rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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