Marie stood at the entrance of the church, doors stood wide open. Her Alexander McQueen custom-made dress looked like she was born with it, sunlight did justice to it while turning the long aisle gold.
Flowers lined both sides, white roses, cream lilies, soft pink peonies. The air smelled sweet, heavy with perfume and candle wax.
Rows of guests rose to their feet, soft murmurs filling the space. Everyone’s eyes fixed on the entrance.
Din stood tall at the altar. Hands clasped in front of him. Head tilted slightly. Eyes locked on the doorway. His black tuxedo fit sharply across his shoulders. The priest beside him smiled calmly.
Williams sat at the foot of the altar, small fingers on the piano keys. Soft notes floated up, gently, hopeful, beautiful. The music shifted. Slower. Sweeter.
