My Fiancé Didn’t Show Up at the Wedding – Police Officers Walked in Instead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An art studio | Source: Midjourney

My Mother-in-Law Moved in with Us After Her House Was Flooded – I Was Shocked When I Overheard Her True Reason for Staying

I blinked. Flooding? That didn’t sound right. She lived in a freshly renovated house, nothing but top-tier everything. I hadn’t heard a single complaint about it until now.

Before I could even begin to process, Joe appeared behind me. He looked guilty, eyes darting anywhere but at me. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight. “Mom’s gonna stay with us for a bit. Just until the house gets fixed.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, my glare piercing.

He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s only for a little while, babe. You and Mom get along, right?”

Get along? If by “get along,” he meant the passive-aggressive remarks about how we’d been married for six years and still hadn’t given her any grandkids, then sure. We were best friends. But I plastered on a smile, the kind you give when you’re two seconds away from snapping. “Of course. I totally understand.”

Hours later, after I’d pretended everything was fine, I got up for some water. As I passed the kitchen, I heard them talking in hushed voices.

“You didn’t tell her the real reason, did you?” Jane’s voice was sharp, like a knife slicing through the night.

Joe sighed. “No, Mom. I didn’t.”

“Well,” Jane huffed, “I’m here to keep an eye on things. Married this long with no children… someone’s got to figure out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t about pipes. She was here to snoop. To pressure me about kids. To “handle” me. I stood frozen in the hallway, blood boiling. What the hell had I just walked into?

The next morning, I woke up with a plan. If Jane wanted to play her little game, I’d play mine. But I wasn’t going to get into a battle of wits with her. No, I was going to kill her with kindness. By 8 a.m., I had already started phase one of my “operation.”

I cleared out our entire master bedroom. Every piece of clothing, every picture frame, every trace of Joe and me was stuffed into the tiny guest room. I even found Jane’s favorite floral bedspread from the back of the linen closet and spread it over the bed like I was preparing a five-star hotel suite.

When I was done, I stood in the doorway, surveying my work. The bedspread was pristine, her cat pictures were lined up on the dresser, and to top it off, I made a “Welcome to Your New Home” basket. Bath bombs, lavender-scented candles, fancy chocolates.

By the time Joe got home from work, I was already sitting in the cramped guest room, arranging our clothes into whatever space I could find. He walked in, his forehead creased with confusion. “Why are you in here?” He peeked around the corner. “Where’s our stuff?”

“Oh, I moved everything,” I said, turning to him with the sweetest smile I could muster. “Your mom deserves the master bedroom, don’t you think? It’s only fair. She needs the space more than we do.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “You… gave her our bedroom?”

“Of course,” I said with a grin. “She’s family, after all. We’ll be just fine in here.”

Joe stood there, mouth half open, processing what I’d done. But what could he say? Jane was his mother, and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. He sighed and walked out of the room without another word.

For the next few days, I made sure Jane was living like royalty. Fresh towels every morning, little snacks placed on the nightstand, and those lavender candles I knew she loved.

She wandered around the house like she owned the place, smiling at me like she’d won. But while Jane was lounging in luxury, Joe was starting to crack. Sharing the guest room was driving him nuts. Not just the lack of space, but his mom’s new obsession with prepping him for fatherhood.

Every morning, without fail, she’d hand him a schedule of vitamins.

“You need to take these, Joe,” she’d say, thrusting a multivitamin at him. “It’s important to get your body ready if you want healthy kids.”

Joe would roll his eyes but take the pills just to keep her quiet.

It didn’t stop there. “Should you really be watching TV at night?” she’d ask over dinner. “That’s not very baby-friendly. You should be reading parenting books. Or exercising. And no more video games! You need to mature, Joe. Fatherhood is serious.”

By day four, I found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of parenting books his mom had ordered online.

“I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, holding up a book titled “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” “She expects me to read this.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Joe,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “you did say we’d be just fine, didn’t you?”

It was relentless. Jane had taken things up a notch. One evening, she handed Joe a neatly typed list of “fertility-boosting” foods. Kale, quinoa, grilled salmon—no more burgers, no more pizza. She smiled sweetly as if she was doing him the world’s greatest favor.

“Your future kids will thank you,” she chirped.

Joe stared at the list like it was a death sentence. “Wait, no pizza? Ever?”

“That’s right, dear,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve planned all your meals for the week. You’ll feel so much better once you start eating clean.”

That night at dinner, we sat around the table eating dry salmon and tasteless kale. Jane watched Joe like a hawk, her eyes flicking from his plate to his face. He shifted uncomfortably, picking at his food.

“Joe,” she started, “did you take your vitamins this morning?”

He sighed, stabbing a fork into the kale. “Yeah, Mom. I took them.”

“And what about the gym? Did you make time for that? You know, you’ve put on a little weight. It’s important to be in shape if you want to be a good father.”

I couldn’t help it. I kicked him under the table to stop myself from bursting out laughing. He shot me a look, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. After days of this, it was finally getting to him.

Later that night, once Jane had gone to bed, Joe turned to me, rubbing his temples. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiana. The guest room, the vitamins, the baby talk… I’m going insane.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You have to admit,” I said, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice, “it’s kind of funny.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny.”

I let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay, it’s a little funny.”

Joe groaned and collapsed onto the bed. “I booked her a room at the hotel down the street. I can’t take another day of this.”

The next morning, he broke the news at breakfast.

“Mom, I’ve booked you a nice hotel nearby until the repairs at your house are done. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”

She blinked, clearly surprised. “But I’m perfectly fine here! And besides, isn’t it time you two got serious about giving me grandkids?”

Joe’s jaw clenched. “Mom, we’ll decide that when we’re ready. For now, the hotel is best for everyone.”

For a moment, Jane just stared at him. Then, realizing she had no leg to stand on, she reluctantly nodded. “Well… if you insist.”

By the end of the day, she was gone. The house was ours again.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Joe collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally.”

I grinned, sinking down beside him. “So… kale for dinner?”

He groaned. “Never again.”

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