Three Days Before My Wedding

Friday, 1:00 PM

A cool autumn breeze slipped through the half-open window of Apartment 7B, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city below.

A car horn echoed from the street.

Somewhere in the park across the road, children laughed as they chased one another through piles of fallen leaves. The branches of the old maple tree swayed gently, scattering a few golden leaves into the air.

Inside the apartment, sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting the living room in shades of honey and gold.

The place was a mess.

Wedding magazines covered the coffee table. Several invitation cards lay open beside a notebook filled with carefully written schedules and crossed-out plans. A white ribbon hung from the back of a chair, and two shopping bags overflowing with decorations sat beside the sofa.

At the center of the organized chaos sat Elena Carter.

Curled up on the cream-colored couch, she balanced a laptop on her knees, her fingers moving quickly over the keyboard.

The glow of the screen reflected in her hazel eyes.

Even three days before her wedding, she was still working.

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

Some habits were impossible to break.

For seven years, she had been an investigative journalist. She had spent countless nights chasing stories, knocking on strangers' doors, and piecing together secrets that others desperately wanted to keep hidden.

Curiosity had become part of her soul.

She couldn't simply turn it off.

Elena tucked a strand of chestnut-brown hair behind her ear and leaned back against the couch.

At twenty-seven, she possessed a quiet beauty that didn't demand attention yet somehow attracted it anyway.

Today, she wore an oversized cream sweater and light blue jeans. The sleeves were rolled to her elbows, revealing slender wrists.

On her left hand rested a diamond engagement ring.

The stone sparkled each time the sunlight touched it.

Unconsciously, she twisted the ring with her thumb.

A habit she had whenever she was nervous.

Her eyes drifted toward the calendar hanging on the wall.

Three days.

Just three more days.

By this time next week, she would no longer be Elena Carter.

She would be Elena Reed.

The thought made her heart skip.

A smile tugged at her lips.

She still found it hard to believe.

Marriage.

A home.

A future with Adrian.

The life she had dreamed of.

Yet, strangely...

A faint uneasiness lingered in her chest.

Not fear.

Not regret.

Just a strange feeling she couldn't explain.

As though something was changing.

As though the air itself was holding its breath.

She frowned slightly.

Then she shook her head.

She was probably just nervous.

Everyone got nervous before their wedding.

Right?

A knock suddenly echoed through the apartment.

Before she could answer, the door opened.

"Please tell me you're not working."

Elena looked up.

Sophie Bennett stood in the doorway carrying two paper bags and an expression of complete disappointment.

A laugh escaped Elena.

"I didn't know journalists were allowed to take vacations."

"They are when they're getting married in three days."

Sophie closed the door with her foot and marched into the living room.

At twenty-seven, she was beautiful in a bright, effortless way.

Her shoulder-length blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face, and her large brown eyes always sparkled with energy and mischief.

Today she wore a pale green sweater tucked into a white skirt and a pair of white sneakers.

Because she lived in the apartment next door, she rarely bothered knocking.

She treated Apartment 7B as if it were her second home.

And, in truth, it had become exactly that.

"Please don't tell me you've been sitting here all morning," Sophie said.

"...Maybe."

"Elena!"

"I'm almost finished."

"You said that yesterday."

"And the day before."

Elena laughed.

Sophie dropped the bags onto the table and crossed her arms.

"You are getting married in three days. Three. Days."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do."

She dramatically pointed toward the wedding magazines.

"Look at all this! We still have decorations to finish, flowers to confirm, and your table cards are still unfinished."

"They're ninety percent done."

"Ninety percent is not one hundred."

Elena couldn't help smiling.

Somehow, Sophie looked more stressed about the wedding than she did.

"You know," Sophie continued, narrowing her eyes, "most brides spend the week before their wedding panicking."

"I'm trying not to."

"You're doing a suspiciously good job."

"I'll panic later."

Sophie stared at her for a few seconds.

Then she sighed.

"Fine. Panic later."

They both laughed.

Their friendship had begun nine years ago in college.

Elena had accidentally spilled an entire cup of coffee onto Sophie's notebook.

Instead of getting angry, Sophie had burst into laughter and invited her to lunch.

Somehow, one lunch had turned into nine years of friendship.

There were people who entered your life quietly and somehow became family.

Sophie was one of those people.

A few seconds passed.

Then Sophie's expression suddenly softened.

She sat beside Elena on the couch.

"Are you happy?"

The question caught Elena off guard.

She blinked.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A serious one."

Elena studied her friend.

For once, there was no teasing in Sophie's eyes.

Only concern.

"Of course I'm happy."

"Good."

A smile appeared on Sophie's face.

"You deserve it."

Warmth spread through Elena's chest.

Before she could reply, the doorbell rang.

Sophie's expression brightened immediately.

"That must be Isabelle."

Elena stood and walked toward the door.

When she opened it, she found Isabelle Hart standing in the hallway.

She smiled warmly.

At first glance, Isabelle looked as though she belonged inside a painting.

Her long black hair flowed down her back in soft waves, and her dark eyes held a gentle kindness.

Today, she wore a beige dress beneath a cream cardigan, with a delicate silver necklace resting against her collarbone.

In her hands was a small gift box wrapped in pale blue ribbon.

"Please tell me I'm not late."

"You're perfectly on time."

Isabelle smiled.

"For the bride."

"You brought a gift?"

"Of course I did."

Elena accepted the box.

Inside lay a pair of elegant pearl hairpins.

For a moment, she simply stared.

"They're beautiful."

"I saw them and immediately thought of your wedding dress."

Elena smiled warmly.

"Thank you."

Something unreadable flickered in Isabelle's eyes.

It disappeared so quickly that Elena almost thought she imagined it.

Then Isabelle smiled again.

"I hope you'll be happy."

The words were soft.

Almost too soft.

Elena blinked.

"Thank you."

A few seconds later, the three women were sitting in the living room together.

Wedding magazines were opened.

Decoration ideas were discussed.

Within twenty minutes, the conversation had somehow turned into a heated debate over flowers.

"White roses are timeless," Sophie declared.

"Lilies are prettier," Isabelle argued.

"Roses."

"Lilies."

"Roses."

"Lilies."

Elena laughed.

"I think I made a mistake asking both of you."

The two women looked at her.

Then they burst into laughter.

Outside the window, the autumn sunlight slowly shifted across the room.

For the first time in weeks, Elena allowed herself to relax.

This…

This was happiness.

Three days from now, she would marry the man she loved.

Her friends were beside her.

Her grandmother was here.

Her brother would arrive tomorrow.

Everything felt perfect.

Almost too perfect.

Then—

A shadow moved outside the window.

Elena looked up.

A figure was standing across the street.

Beneath the old maple tree.

Completely still.

Watching the apartment.

Her smile slowly faded as a chill crawled up her spine

Then a bus passed between the tree and the building.

When it moved on…

The figure was gone.

For a few seconds, Elena continued staring out the window.

The sidewalk across the street was empty.

Only a few fallen leaves rolled lazily along the pavement.

"Elena?"

She blinked and turned around.

Sophie was looking at her curiously.

"What are you staring at?"

"I thought…" Elena frowned slightly. "Never mind."

"What?"

"I thought I saw someone standing under the maple tree."

Sophie immediately walked to the window and looked outside.

"I don't see anyone."

"Maybe I imagined it."

"You've been working too much," Sophie said. "Your brain is turning every innocent stranger into a suspect."

Elena laughed softly.

Perhaps she was right.

Being an investigative journalist had a strange effect on people. After years of uncovering secrets and lies, it became difficult to look at the world without wondering what was hidden beneath the surface.

She pulled the curtain back into place.

"It's nothing."

"Good," Sophie said. "Because if we're being watched, I at least want to look prettier."

Isabelle laughed.

"You look fine."

"I always look fine, but that's not the point."

The three women burst into laughter.

Just then, a delicious aroma drifted through the apartment.

A few seconds later, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Margaret Carter appeared carrying a large tray.

"Grandma!" Elena exclaimed.

At seventy-two, Margaret had aged gracefully. Silver now threaded through her once-dark hair, and delicate wrinkles rested around her kind eyes.

Yet there was something elegant about her.

Something warm.

Her hazel eyes—the same color as Elena's—still carried the gentleness that had comforted Elena throughout her entire life.

"I thought my girls might be hungry."

The smell coming from the tray was heavenly.

Fresh bread.

Soup.

Pasta.

And a plate of pastries.

Sophie stood up immediately.

"I love you."

Margaret laughed.

"You say that every time I cook."

"Because every time you cook, I fall in love all over again."

"You should visit more often, then."

"I plan to."

The table was soon filled with food.

The apartment grew lively once again.

For a while, all worries disappeared.

Spoons clinked against bowls.

Laughter filled the room.

Outside, the afternoon slowly drifted toward evening.

"This is amazing," Isabelle said after taking another bite.

Margaret smiled.

"You're all too kind."

"No," Sophie said. "You're too talented."

The older woman laughed softly.

As she looked at the three young women sitting around her table, something tender crossed her expression.

For a brief moment, her eyes lingered on Elena.

There was so much love in that gaze that Elena's chest warmed.

Before she could notice, her phone suddenly rang.

The screen lit up.

Adrian.

A smile instantly appeared on her face.

Sophie noticed.

"Oh no," she said dramatically. "The Adrian smile."

"I don't have an Adrian smile."

"You absolutely do."

Elena ignored her and answered the call.

"Hi."

"Hi, beautiful."

The sound of his voice warmed her heart immediately.

She could almost picture him smiling.

At twenty-nine, Adrian Reed possessed the kind of handsomeness that didn't need effort.

Dark hair.

Kind gray eyes.

A calm expression that rarely changed.

There was something steady about him.

Something safe.

Whenever life became chaotic, Adrian somehow made everything feel simpler.

"How's wedding headquarters?" he asked.

Elena glanced around the messy apartment.

"Chaotic."

"I had a feeling."

"You should see this place."

"I'm afraid to."

She laughed softly.

"How are you?"

There was a tiny pause.

Then he answered.

"I'm good."

Something about that pause felt strange.

Small.

Almost unnoticeable.

Yet Elena frowned slightly.

She knew Adrian well.

Very well.

And for some reason…

He sounded tired.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I am."

"You're sure?"

"Just a long day."

She relaxed.

"You're working too hard."

"So are you."

"I've been officially scolded by Sophie."

"I'd listen to her."

Sophie grinned proudly.

"See? He understands me."

Elena laughed.

A comfortable silence settled between them.

Then Adrian spoke again.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little."

"You'll be fine."

"You sound suspiciously calm."

"I've accepted my fate."

She laughed.

The familiar warmth returned.

For a moment, she imagined herself standing beside him at the altar.

She imagined his smile.

The way he would hold her hand.

Their future.

A home.

A family.

Growing old together.

The thought made her heart ache with happiness.

"I love you," she said softly.

There was a brief silence.

Long enough for her smile to fade just a little.

Then—

"I love you too."

The words were gentle.

Warm.

Yet for some reason…

That strange uneasiness returned.

Before she could think about it, Adrian spoke again.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

"Take care of yourself."

"You too."

The call ended.

Elena stared at the screen for a moment.

Then she put the phone down.

Sophie and Isabelle were already looking at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You have the smile again," Sophie said.

"I don't."

"You do."

"It's honestly adorable," Isabelle added.

Elena laughed and shook her head.

"I suddenly regret inviting both of you."

"Too late," Sophie replied.

The three women laughed together.

A few minutes later, Elena's phone rang again.

This time, the screen displayed another familiar name.

Daniel.

Her older brother.

She answered immediately.

"Hello?"

"How's the bride?"

She smiled.

"I'm fine."

"You still have time to run away."

"I'm hanging up."

"You haven't even heard my escape plan."

She laughed.

Daniel's voice always carried the same teasing warmth.

At thirty-two, he had spent most of his life acting more like a second parent than an older brother.

Ever since their parents had died years ago, he had done everything he could to protect her.

Sometimes a little too much.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"I wouldn't miss it."

"Good."

There was a pause.

Then he said softly,

"You sound happy."

"I am."

"Then that's all I need."

She couldn't help smiling.

"Try not to cry at the wedding."

"I'm not making any promises."

"You always cry."

"I do not."

"You cried during my college graduation."

"That was different."

"You cried when I got my first apartment."

"Also different."

"You cried when I adopted a cat."

"It was a very cute cat."

Elena burst into laughter.

"I missed you."

His voice softened.

"I missed you too, little sister."

The words made her chest tighten pleasantly.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"I wouldn't miss it."

After the call ended, Margaret looked at her quietly.

A gentle smile touched her lips.

"Daniel still treats you like you're twelve."

"He always will."

"That's because he loves you."

Elena smiled.

She knew that.

More than anyone.

The sky outside slowly turned shades of orange and pink.

The sunlight faded.

Eventually, Sophie and Isabelle stood.

"We should go," Isabelle said.

"Tomorrow we're finishing the decorations," Sophie added, pointing a finger at Elena.

"No excuses."

"I know."

"And no working."

"I know."

They hugged her goodbye.

As Isabelle pulled away, she held Elena's hands for a second longer than necessary.

A strange look passed through her eyes.

Then it vanished.

"See you tomorrow," she said softly.

The front door closed behind them.

Silence settled over Apartment 7B.

Margaret yawned.

"I think I'll take a little nap."

"You should."

The older woman smiled and disappeared into her room.

The apartment suddenly felt much bigger.

And much quieter.

Elena stretched her arms and leaned back against the couch.

Then—

A soft knock echoed through the apartment.

She turned her head toward the door.

The corners of her mouth lifted.

Maybe Sophie or Isabelle forgot something, she thought.

It wouldn't be the first time.

She stood and walked toward the door, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor.

But when she opened it…

The hallway was empty.

No Sophie.

No Isabelle.

No neighbors.

Only the faint hum of the elevator and the warm glow of the corridor lights.

Then she looked down.

An envelope lay on the floor.

White.

Plain.

She frowned.

There was no stamp.

No address.

No sender.

A strange chill crept over her skin.

Slowly, she picked it up.

The paper felt cold.

She didn't know why, but suddenly the hallway seemed too quiet.

She looked down the hallway.

No one.

Her heart gave an odd little beat.

She stepped back inside and closed the door.

Carefully, she opened the envelope.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

Three words.

Nothing more.

"Don't marry him".

Elena blinked.

Silence filled the room.

Then she let out a nervous laugh.

"A prank?"

Who would send something like this?

She turned the paper over.

Blank.

No explanation.

No name.

No handwriting she recognized.

She read the words again.

Don't marry him.

This time, they didn't seem funny.

For some reason…

Her fingers suddenly felt cold.

Just then, a bedroom door opened.

Margaret stepped into the living room.

"Who was at the door, dear?"

Elena looked up quickly.

"No one."

The answer came too fast.

Her grandmother frowned slightly.

"No one?"

"I think someone left the wrong envelope."

Margaret looked at the paper in her hand.

"What is it?"

For a brief moment, Elena considered showing her.

Then she folded the letter.

"Nothing important."

Margaret's smile faded for a moment.

But she simply nodded.

"If you say so."

A few minutes later, Margaret returned to her room.

Elena remained standing.

The letter rested in her hand.

She read the words one last time.

Then she placed it on the coffee table.

She was probably overthinking.

It had to be a joke.

Yes.

A stupid joke.

Outside, darkness slowly covered the city.

Across the street, beneath the old maple tree, a tall figure stood silently.

Watching the illuminated window of Apartment 7B.

Watching Elena.

Very slowly, the figure slipped a gloved hand into a coat pocket.

Inside was a photograph.

A photograph of Elena.

Across it, written in red ink, were three chilling words.

Three days left.