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.

“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!”

“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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.”

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.

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.

“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.”

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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

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.

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.

“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.

“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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.”

“I have a wedding gift for you, too,” I said.