A Day Made of Dreams
The day unfolded like a dream. White roses lined the aisle in flawless arcs, their scent drifting through the warm afternoon breeze. Gentle string music floated across the garden, blending with the hushed murmurs of guests marveling at the scene.
I’ll never forget the way Greg looked at me as I walked toward him—steady, adoring, as if no other woman had ever mattered. He silently mouthed you’re everything before I reached him, gripping my hand like he’d never let it go. The vows came naturally.
His voice broke with feeling. Mine wavered, then found its strength as I met his gaze. When the officiant finally declared us husband and wife, the applause burst into a chorus, sunlight glinting off champagne glasses as laughter trailed us into what felt like forever.
At least, that’s what everyone believed. Greg’s parents hosted the reception with regal flair, sparing no detail. Light from crystal chandeliers danced on polished floors, and tables shimmered under golden cloths.
His mother, Marianne, toasted to “the union they had long hoped for.” His father, James, pulled me into a warm embrace. And Greg—he never let go of my hand. We danced.
We laughed. We kissed like we were the only two people in the world. I was the bride others admired—living out the fairy tale they all dreamed of.
But even fairy tales have their darkness. And some hide monsters in plain sight.
The Anticipation of the Night
As the last song ended and the guests drifted away, Greg leaned close, whispering promises of forever in my ear.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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