Everything about my wedding day had been planned down to the smallest detail. From the ivory roses wrapped around the archway to the string quartet playing softly in the background, it was everything I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. The morning sun shone gently through the garden, the air smelled faintly of lavender, and my heart was a mix of joy and nervous excitement.
But in the middle of what should have been the happiest day of my life, something went terribly wrong. I didn’t notice it immediately. When I stepped out in my white dress and saw everyone turning toward me, smiling, clapping, some with tears in their eyes, I felt weightless.
My soon-to-be husband, Julian, was standing under the floral arch, looking at me as though I were the only person in the world. For a moment, that’s all that mattered. It wasn’t until I reached the halfway point down the aisle that I realized something was off.
My eyes swept over the rows of guests, searching instinctively for my mother, and she wasn’t there. At first, I told myself she was probably just running late. Mom was famous for getting distracted.
Maybe she was fixing her makeup or helping my younger cousin with a wardrobe emergency. But as I reached the end of the aisle and still didn’t see her, a quiet unease began to settle in my chest. Julian squeezed my hand gently when he noticed my slight hesitation.
“Everything okay?” he whispered. I forced a smile. “Yeah, just… can’t see Mom.”
He gave me a reassuring nod.
“She’s probably somewhere nearby.”
I wanted to believe that. The ceremony went on, though my heart wasn’t completely in it. The words of the officiant blurred in and out as I kept glancing toward the guests, hoping she would appear.
My best friend, Lina, caught my eye from the front row and gave a small shrug, as if to say, She’ll turn up. By the time we exchanged vows and the officiant pronounced us husband and wife, I’d managed to push my anxiety aside. The applause erupted, the music swelled, and we kissed.
I tried to focus on the happiness, the moment. But when we walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, and my mother was still nowhere to be seen, my stomach twisted. “She must be with the caterers or something,” Julian said softly.
“Let’s check after the photos.”
I nodded, but the uneasy feeling stayed. When the guests moved toward the reception area, I slipped away, still in my gown, and pulled Lina aside. “Can you help me find my mom?
She’s not answering her phone.”
Lina frowned. “Really? That’s weird.
She was in the bridal suite earlier, helping with your dress.”
“Yeah, but that was hours ago.” I pulled up my phone again, tried calling, and got nothing but voicemail. We split up to check around the venue. It was a large countryside estate, with winding hallways, dressing rooms, and storage closets.
The reception staff hadn’t seen her. Neither had my cousins. My aunt said she last saw Mom before the ceremony, talking to Julian’s stepmother, Carol, near the dressing rooms.
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