After getting dressed, I let Andy inside. I led him to the plush, white couch my fiance, my late fiance, had bought me because my other, leather, couch broke. "I have a few questions regarding your missing fiance, Marcus Almond. You kn–" I abruptly interrupted him, "He would have rather you called him Mark." After I was done, trying my best to look like a grieving widow, he started up again. "Did you know that Mark's full name meant polite noble protector?" I mean I didn't, but he doesn't need to know that. "Yes, I did. I remember one day, a few days before he proposed we were just having fun, scrolling through social media and someone looked up their name's meaning. So we did the same for us. It was fun, we were dying of laughter around the kitchen island." And then, for extra good measure, I looked longingly at my kitchen island. And that is when I busted out my most powerful weapon: tears. I was balling.
He carefully asked me, in the tone that you would approach a skittish animal, "What were you doing on the night of your husband– fiance's death?" Still crying, but gradually calming down, I responded, "After being stood up at the alter, I went home in tears and decided to get a drink. I went down to the Alcohol Grill and ordered something really strong and had a couple of refills, but it must have been so strong that I don't remember what it was. And then I think left the bar and passed out in my car."
"May I see your wedding dress?" He asked me once the tears fully subsided. "Oh, shoot, I knew I forgot something. I think I left my car unlocked last night. When I passed out, my wedding dress was in my backseat, but when I woke up, it was gone. I am gonna go grab some tissues, Do you need anything? Water? Soda? Beer?" I asked him through sniffles. "Oh, yes ma'am I'd love some water." So I headed off towards the kitchen.
I prepared a special glass of water, just for him. A blue glass cup, eight ounces of water, and a little something extra. I brought him the glass of water. This specific poison is very interesting; it doesn't kill, instead, it makes people very susceptible to suggestion. After Andy drank the entire glass of water, I programmed his car's GPS, threw his notes into my fireplace, and then gently suggested to him that he get in his car and drive.
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Her wedding sucked but continued to go downhill from there
General FictionA woman kills her fiance and then has to continue killing to cover it up and we end with a super surprising plot twist that no one sees coming. Almost exactly one year ago, I started this story and forgot about it. I was going through my Google Docs...
