On what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, Serene’s wedding takes a shocking turn when two police officers arrive with news about her fiancé. But as the truth unravels, Serene discovers a gift, and a love, beyond her wildest dreams.
I remember that day like it was yesterday.
It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Our wedding day. But instead of saying “I do,” I found myself standing frozen in the middle of the wedding hall as two police officers walked straight toward me, holding a photo of my fiancé.
A surprised bride | Source: Midjourney
“Ma’am? Do you know this man?” one of them asked.
Now, let’s rewind.
I met Andrew six months ago at an art gallery my friend dragged me to. I’d gone reluctantly, expecting to spend the evening sipping overpriced wine and nodding at abstract paintings I didn’t understand.
“Come on, Serene,” Mimi said. “Let’s just throw ourselves into a life of cultural antics. First an art gallery, next the theatre. Please!”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Fine,” I said, giving in. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything else for the night, anyway. But if I don’t enjoy it…”
“Then I’ll take you for some Thai food before we head home. I promise,” Mimi said.
So, I got dressed and out we went.
And there he was.
Andrew.
A woman standing in an art gallery | Source: Midjourney
Tall, with messy dark hair, flecks of paint on his hands, and the kind of smile that makes you forget your own name.
He was showing some of his work that night, a series of dreamy, surrealist landscapes that immediately caught my attention. When I wandered over to one of his paintings, he appeared beside me.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Honestly? It’s beautiful. Breathtaking,” I said, looking at him instead of the canvas.
A man in an art gallery | Source: Midjourney
From that moment, we were inseparable. Andrew was unlike anyone I’d ever dated before. He didn’t care about money or status. He didn’t even own a car.
He was happy with dates including food from vendors and long walks. And he lived in a tiny studio apartment with canvases stacked to the ceiling.
But he was kind, passionate, and wildly talented.
A food truck | Source: Midjourney
“Serene,” he called softly. “Don’t move, the light is perfect.”
Andrew was painting me, or trying to, but I kept wanting to move around. I was restless, and I felt unsettled. Like something was coming, but I didn’t know what.
And I was right. Except I had no reason to feel so on edge.
A man painting | Source: Midjourney
Andrew proposed that evening, after us being together officially for only four months. My heart said yes before my brain could even catch up. How could I have said anything other than ‘yes’? The man I loved was on one knee, a bouquet of wildflowers in my hand, and the most beautiful and unusual ring on my finger.
It was meant to be.
My father, on the other hand, was furious.
“You’re marrying a man you’ve only known for six months,” he said, pacing the living room with a glass of whiskey in his hands.
A woman’s engagement ring | Source: Midjourney
I was having dinner with my parents, eager to tell them the news. Andrew was supposed to come with me, but at the last moment, inspiration struck, and he had to get his paints out.
“A man who has nothing to his name except some paintbrushes and a dream,” my father shouted. “Do you really think he loves you for who you are, Serene? Or is he after the money that you come with? Our family fortune!”
“Andrew isn’t like that!” I argued. “He doesn’t care about money. He loves me for me. Not everything is about you, Dad. Not everything is about money.”
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
My father wasn’t convinced at all. He refused to give us his blessing, and although my mom tried to stay neutral, I could tell she wasn’t thrilled either.
Still, I believed in Andrew.
The morning of the wedding was chaotic but exciting.
A woman standing in her nightgown | Source: Midjourney
My parents were at the venue early, managing the last-minute details while I was upstairs getting ready with my bridesmaids.
“Do you think your dad will behave today?” my maid of honor, Lisa, asked as she curled my hair.
“I hope so,” I said, fiddling with my engagement ring. “He’s been better lately. I think he’s starting to come around.”
The rear view of a woman | Source: Midjourney
But as the ceremony time approached, something felt off. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.
“Have you heard from him?” Mimi asked, her voice tight with concern.
I shook my head.
I’d called him three times already, but there was no answer. The ceremony was supposed to start at 2 p.m., and now, forty-five minutes later, the whispers among the guests were getting louder.
A bride holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
Just as I was about to call him again, the doors to the hall burst open, and two men in police uniforms walked in.
The room fell silent.
“Ma’am,” one of them said, striding toward me. “Do you know this man?”
My knees almost gave in as he held up a photo of Andrew.
Two police officers at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“Yes,” I said, my voice trembling. “That’s my fiancé. That’s Andrew! What’s going on? Is he okay? Has there been an accident?”
The officer exchanged a look with his partner before continuing.
“We’re sorry to inform you, but your fiancé has been apprehended. He broke into your family’s estate earlier today while everyone was here and attempted to rob the house.”
A policeman at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
The room erupted into chaos.
“What?!” I gasped, shaking my head. “That’s impossible. Andrew could never…”
“I warned you!” my father’s voice thundered across the hall, cutting through the noise. He was already marching toward me, his face red with a mix of anger and vindication.
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
“This is exactly what I said would happen. Andrew is a con artist! And now, he’s made a fool out of you in front of everyone. In front of your own family and friends, Serene!”
My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear the officers as they explained that Andrew had been caught on the outskirts of the city, trying to flee.
They invited me and my parents to come with them to the scene.
A police officer at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“Of course, I’m coming too,” my father declared, grabbing his coat. “Let’s see what this scammer has to say for himself.”
The ride to the scene was unbearable, my wedding dress felt heavy and uncomfortable.
My father kept muttering under his breath about how he knew this would happen, and how I should’ve listened in the first place.
A bride sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
“You were too damn naïve for your own good, Serene,” he spat.
I sat in silence, staring out the window, my engagement ring feeling heavier by the second.
When we arrived, the officers didn’t take us to a police station. Instead, they pulled up outside an old warehouse on the edge of town.
“What is this?” my dad asked, narrowing his eyes.
The exterior of an abandoned warehouse | Source: Midjourney
“This is… an unusual case,” one officer replied cryptically, opening the warehouse door.
The moment I stepped inside, I froze.
There were tins of paint everywhere. Old paintbrushes strewn around. It felt like Andrew’s studio.
There, on a massive wall that stretched across the entire warehouse, was a mural.
Tins of paint in an abandoned warehouse | Source: Midjourney
A breathtaking, larger-than-life graffiti painting of a bride and groom. The bride was unmistakably me, with my dark curls and white wedding dress, and the groom, Andrew, was holding my hand, smiling like the happiest man alive.
In the corner of the mural were the words:
Forever yours, Andrew.
A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney
Before I could fully process what I was seeing, Andrew stepped out from behind a canvas, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Surprise!” he said, grinning nervously.
“What… what the hell is this?” I stammered, tears already welling up in my eyes.
A man standing in an abandoned warehouse | Source: Midjourney
“It’s my wedding gift to you, Serene, my love,” he said, gesturing toward the mural. “I wanted to give you something that would last forever, something that showed how much I love you. The police officers are actors, I hired them to play along. I know it’s a bit dramatic, but I wanted to make today unforgettable.”
My dad, who had been standing in stunned silence, finally spoke.
“You mean to tell me this was all… a prank?”
Andrew nodded.
A smiling groom | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m sorry for the scare, but I wanted to show you and everyone else that I’m serious about marrying your daughter.”
For a moment, my dad just stared at him. Then, to my shock, he chuckled.
“Well, I’ll give you this,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’ve got talent. And guts. I still don’t fully trust you… but you’ve earned my respect today.”
Andrew smiled.
A laughing man | Source: Midjourney
What the actual heck?
“No! This is not okay!” I shouted. “Andrew! We’re supposed to be getting married right now! What on earth were you thinking? I’ve been calling you! Seriously?”
Andrew’s eyes widened.
“I know, I know, Serene,” he said. “But it’s the muse that called. When I started the mural, I had to finish it. You understand, don’t you? You know how it is, my love.”
A bride with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney
I wanted to be angry. I wanted to remain upset and scream until I felt better. But I didn’t know how to be upset with Andrew. I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I ran to my fiancé and threw my arms around him, laughing and crying all at once.
“This is the best wedding gift I could’ve imagined,” I whispered.
“Good,” he said, holding me close.
A couple embracing | Source: Midjourney
We all returned to the venue together, where Andrew explained the entire thing to our bewildered guests. My dad even raised a toast to Andrew during the reception, admitting that he might’ve misjudged him.
It turns out, sometimes love isn’t about perfect timing or logic. It’s about trust, creativity, and a little bit of risk.
And Andrew?
My goodness, he didn’t just become my husband. He was the masterpiece I never saw coming.
A man giving a toast | Source: Midjourney
After our wedding, we lazed in a hotel room, eating strawberries covered in chocolate.
“I was scared,” I admitted. “When you didn’t answer my calls or show up at the wedding, I was… scared. I thought that my father had finally run you out of town.”
“Oh, Serene,” he said, smiling. “Nothing will send me away from you.”
A tray of chocolate covered strawberries | Source: Midjourney
“I have a wedding gift for you, too,” I said.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching for a bottle of champagne.
“When we get home, I want you to pack your studio up. I’ve bought you a space, just for your art. Your own studio. It’s bigger, and the lighting is beautiful… and there’s a gallery attached to it. So you can show off your artwork whenever you want.”
Andrew was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if I had overstepped.
“That’s… everything to me, Serene. You’re my muse, you know that, right?”
An art studio | Source: Midjourney
I Spent Every Thanksgiving with My Husband’s Family, but the One Time We Went to Mine Turned into a Nightmare — Story of the Day
Every year, Sarah had to devise a new excuse to explain to her family why they wouldn’t be visiting. “I won’t miss a single-family holiday because of your parents!” her husband Peter always insisted. But this time, Sarah stood her ground and defended her family values.
The end of autumn and the beginning of winter had always been my favorite time of year.
Сrisp air carried the smell of woodsmoke, and the golden leaves gave way to the first frost.
It was the season when my family would gather, no matter what, to share holiday dinners and exchange thoughtful gifts.
Those gatherings were the heart of my childhood, moments of warmth and laughter that felt like nothing else in the world.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But since marrying Peter, those moments had become memories. Each year, I found myself on the phone, explaining to my parents why I couldn’t make it.
Why, once again, I’d be spending the holidays with Peter’s family instead of my own.
My mom would try to sound understanding, but I knew it hurt her. It hurt me too.
This year, though, things were going to be different. For the first time, Peter had agreed to spend Thanksgiving with my parents.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It had taken weeks of discussion—if you could call the arguments discussions—but he finally relented.
And now, here we were, strolling through the grocery store, picking out a bottle of wine for my mom, a new roasting pan for my dad, and the ingredients for the pumpkin pie I wanted to bake.
I clutched a small bundle of festive napkins with turkeys printed on them and held them up for Peter’s opinion.
He shrugged. His lack of enthusiasm was obvious, and it had been simmering all day.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Are you okay, love?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
“Yeah. Couldn’t be better,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
I sighed.
“Are you still upset about going to my parents’ house?”
He stopped walking and turned to me, his face tight with frustration. “Of course, I’m upset! Why should I skip my family’s holiday for your whims?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“My whims?” I said, my voice rising despite myself. “I’ve done this for you every single year since we started dating, Peter. Every. Year.”
“Oh, here we go,” he said with a bitter laugh. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? You didn’t like this, you didn’t like that. What about me? Why don’t you care if I’m happy?”
“Peter,” I said slowly, keeping my voice as steady as possible, “we’ve already talked about this. I just want one season with my parents. If that’s too much for you, maybe we should celebrate separately.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His eyebrows shot up.
“Season? Are you saying you’re skipping Christmas with my family too?”
“Yes,” I replied firmly, though my stomach churned.
“This year, I’m spending the holidays with my parents.”
He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. Then you can explain that to my parents.”
“I will,” I said, keeping my tone quiet and even.
I felt wrung out, as if every ounce of energy had been drained by this conversation. I just wanted it to be over.
We stood in the aisle for a moment, the silence between us louder than the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead.
He grabbed the cart handle and pushed it forward without another word.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I followed, clutching the napkins to my chest, trying to hold on to the excitement that had felt so real just hours ago.
The tension hung heavy in the car as we neared my parents’ house.
Peter gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw set in a way that warned me not to push too hard. But I couldn’t let it go entirely.
“Peter,” I started softly, “please, just be kind to my parents. They’re excited to see us, and they’re nervous about making a good impression.”
He let out a sharp laugh.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, great! Now you’re giving me instructions? Should I juggle for them too? Or maybe do a little dance?”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not asking for much. I just want this to go well.”
“Well,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly, “maybe you should’ve just invited them to join us at my family’s house. Wouldn’t that have been easier?”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Peter, they’re old. Traveling for the holidays isn’t easy for them.”
“Great. Just perfect!” he muttered, throwing one hand up dramatically before gripping the wheel again.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the drive was silent except for the hum of the engine.
I focused on the frosty trees lining the road, trying to calm the knot in my stomach.
When we arrived, I forced a smile and rang the doorbell.
My mom, Charlotte, opened the door almost immediately, her face lighting up as she threw her arms around us.
“I’m so happy to see you! Finally, you’re here!” she exclaimed, her warmth like a balm to my nerves.
Behind her, my dad, Kevin, offered a small, reserved smile, his usual quiet presence grounding the moment.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Peter muttered a half-hearted “hello” and walked inside without eye contact.
I gave my mom an apologetic look, silently willing her to understand. Then, with a deep breath, I followed him into the house.
Inside the warm glow of the house, my mom and I moved around the dining room, setting the table with care.
The soft clatter of plates and the occasional hum of her voice filled the space as we arranged the dishes.
In the living room, Peter sat stiffly on the couch, his arms crossed, while my dad quietly flipped through a magazine beside him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mom glanced toward Peter, her movements slowing. “Is Peter okay?” she asked softly. “He seems… upset.”
I hesitated, trying to find the right words.
“He’s just… frustrated, I think,” I said finally, keeping my voice low. “He wishes we were spending the holiday with his family.”
Her hands paused mid-air, holding a serving spoon. “Oh,” she said, her tone tinged with confusion and sadness. “Did we do something wrong?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No, Mom,” I said quickly. “It’s not you. It’s just—” I stopped, unsure how to explain the unspoken tension between Peter and me. “It’s complicated.”
She looked at me, her brows drawn together.
“We’re not family to him?” she asked quietly, almost to herself.
Her words hit me like a cold wind. I didn’t know how to respond.
Was that how Peter saw it? My family, my parents—were they nothing to him? The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. For Peter’s mood? For his indifference? For years I’d put my family on hold for his?
Mom placed a hand on my arm, her touch warm and steady.
“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart,” she said gently.
But her eyes still held a shadow of hurt, and it lingered in the air as we finished setting the table in silence.
The table was set beautifully, with crisp white linens, shining silverware, and the aroma of roasted turkey filling the room.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My mom, Charlotte, stood back to admire her work before clapping her hands.
“Everything’s ready! Come and eat!” she said with cheerful warmth, her voice echoing into the quiet living room.
We all gathered around the table. My dad, Kevin, pulled out my mom’s chair for her, and I couldn’t help but smile at his small gesture of old-fashioned chivalry.
Peter followed sluggishly, barely making an effort to engage, and slumped into his seat with a sigh.
The meal began, but the air was tense like a storm waiting to break. My mom tried valiantly to spark a conversation.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“So, Peter,” she started brightly, “how’s work going? Busy this time of year?”
He gave a noncommittal grunt, stabbing a piece of turkey with his fork.
“Dad’s been working on the deck in the backyard,” I chimed in, trying to fill the silence. “It’s really coming together.”
My dad nodded. “It’s slow, but it keeps me busy. Maybe you could come by and give me some tips, Peter.”
Peter didn’t even look up. “Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, flicking a crumb off the table.
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Peter,” I said softly, leaning toward him, “what’s wrong? Can I help?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter and leaned back in his chair. “Everything’s wrong!” he snapped, his voice loud enough to make my mom flinch.
“How is this even Thanksgiving without my mom’s chocolate pudding?”
“Pudding?” my mom echoed, her voice unsure, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for her glass of water.
“It’s fine,” I interjected quickly, trying to calm the situation. “His mom always makes it for him. It’s no big deal.”
Peter scoffed, his eyes blazing. “No big deal? Of course! Because nothing I want ever matters. It’s always about Sarah, isn’t it? What Sarah wants. What Sarah needs.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Peter, please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “This is supposed to be a happy day.”
He pushed his chair back, the chair’s legs screeching against the floor. “Listen, I’m done! We’re leaving. Get your coat, Sarah!”
“NO, YOU LISTEN!” my dad shouted after Peter, jumping up from his chair. But Peter just ignored him and walked right past! I saw my dad clutch his chest.
The weight of the moment pressed on me as I stood slowly. My mom’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, Mom,” I said, my throat tightening. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this.”
I walked to the doorway, where Peter stood waiting, arms crossed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Put your coat on! We’re leaving!” he barked.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “You’re leaving. I’m staying.”
“What? You’re my wife. You’re supposed to listen to me!”
I took a deep breath, meeting his glare.
“You don’t respect my parents, you don’t respect me, and behaving like this, you don’t even respect yourself. I’ve put up with your selfishness for years, hoping the loving man I married was still there. But now, I don’t believe he is.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You want to talk about respect?” he sputtered, disbelief written all over his face.
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “Leave, Peter. It’s over.”
His mouth opened, but no words came. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I returned to the dining room, my heart pounding, and found my parents sitting quietly, their faces a mixture of sadness and concern.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry, Mom. Dad,” I said, my voice soft but resolute.
“I let this go on for too long. But not anymore.”
Charlotte stood and wrapped me in a warm hug. “You’re home now. That’s all that matters,” she whispered.
For the first time in years, I felt free. I had chosen the family that truly mattered and wouldn’t trade them for anything.
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