Olivia P O V
A wedding is supposed to be a joyous occasion, a day to be celebrated, where two souls come together. Joined in holy matrimony. Bonded by vows to love and to cherish.
I have always imagined something romantic despite the tug of survival I have passed through. A grand wedding, the prettiest, most expensive gowns, gorgeous heels that many brides would envy, a lovely veil to put any other veils to shame, and my handsome Prince Charming, my little fairy tale.
But it was just that. A fantasy. A lovely one to dream of, but a fantasy nonetheless. Because my wedding was nothing short of a cruel reality.
Everything is perfect just like how I imagined my wedding day
“That’s it, Livia; remember, I am always on your side. You just do not see it yet because of this, and we understand
