Murder Mystery - H.S

49*

Juliet.

This was it—the moment a little girl always dreams of: the wedding, the big day, the day I admire Harry. But this one was different; it wasn't big or extravagant. It was just us—intimate and personal, something so small and meaningful that it felt like a secret shared between two hearts. I was nervous. I was marrying Harry, someone I am not yet in love with but someone I want to love in every shape and form. Love. Such a strange little word and feeling. So scary and vulnerable. I am scared to be that vulnerable. To let someone love me in every shape and form. To love someone in a way you don't love any other.

But I was ready

I kept looking at myself in the mirror, and the white dress I was wearing exuded confidence in a whisper. Despite its simplicity, I adored the dress. The other half of the dress was a sparkly white that flowed down, capturing my curves and revealing more of my skin in a darker, deeper pattern. The top of the dress was a thin, laced, and clear pattern, pushing my breasts up and adorning every single curve. Flowers flew around, creating a pattern to admire.

I hope he loved the dress as much as I did.

I took a moment to breathe in the emotions that swirled around me. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the soft fragrance of my chosen perfume, creating a sensory tapestry that would forever be etched in my memory.

My skin tingles because this moment feels so special, standing in front of a mirror in my wedding dress. I'm stunned because there's no way that the woman staring back at me is the skin I am currently in—so radiant, wearing the gown as if it were customized for a goddess.

I never saw myself getting married but today I was glowing.

I smile, drawing attention to my red lips—Harry loves the color red. There were loose strands of my long brown curls that were held in place by my white veil. I did everything Harry liked about me today.

The room, adorned with fragrant blossoms and softly lit by the warm afternoon sun, created an ambiance of quiet celebration. The air was delicately perfumed with the sweet scent of flowers, their vibrant colors adding a touch of natural elegance to the intimate space. Soft rays of sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow on the scene.

"Are you ready?" A woman, who worked at the venue, asked with a warm smile as she stood by the door. She appeared to be in her late 50s, with her brown hair gracefully falling to her shoulders, and she was dressed in a tasteful suit. I couldn't help but grin in response, nodding appreciatively.

Instead of our initial plan to get married at the Vegas chapel, Harry surprised me by booking a reception hall, wanting the best for our special day. However, he kept the details of the hall a secret, only assuring me that I would "love it."

As I walked out of the room, I took a moment to fix my hair, the excitement building with each step. Stepping into the hall, the first thing that caught my eye was the enchanting play of lights. Delicate bulbs adorned the walking aisle, casting a soft, romantic glow that illuminated the path ahead. Flowers adorned the space, their petals seemingly dancing in the gentle breeze.

I gasped, a smile escaping my lips, as I took in the enchanting scene. The anticipation and wonder intensified as my eyes followed the path of lights, ultimately landing on the person standing at the end of the aisle.

Harry.

When his eyes met mine, I swore my heart pounded harshly against my ribcage, performing a joyous dance of its own. I felt as though my breath had decided to play a game of hide-and-seek in the air. A symphony of emotions swirled within me, creating a delightful chaos that only love could orchestrate. My lips curled into a smile, almost instinctively, as I approached.