A LOVE THAT KILLS

I suppose I should start by introducing myself, though it feels a bit strange

I suppose I should start by introducing myself, though it feels a bit strange. I'm Grace Hartley-a woman who used to have a life planned out for her, down to the last detail.

But life has a funny way of showing you that the plans you make aren't always the ones that unfold.

I come from a family of old money, where everything is structured, everything is expected. My life used to revolve around that. I spent years working my way up in the event planning world, making a name for myself, and getting everything ready for the wedding I thought would be my future.

But that future-my perfect life-crumbled the moment my fiancé walked out the door.

When everything fell apart, I needed to get away. I went on a vacation to Italy, hoping to find peace in a place that felt like an escape, a place where no one knew me or my story.

It was there I realized I wasn't running away-I was running toward something new. So, I made the decision to stay, to build a life for myself in a country that had begun to feel like home.

Now, I'm a wedding planner. It's funny, really. You'd think planning weddings for others would be the last thing I'd want to do after my own engagement ended in disaster.

But there's something about creating that magic for other people-their perfect day, their dream come true-that makes it all worthwhile.

My little business is tucked in the heart of Italy, nestled among cobblestone streets and charming villas. I work with couples from all over the world, giving them a wedding day they'll never forget.

It's not just about flowers and cakes. It's about creating memories, crafting the story of their lives-something I thought I'd have for myself once.

I know I'm not ready for love. Not yet. But I can help others find it, at least for a day. And in the meantime, I'll build a life here that's mine, one step at a time.

The air in Italy is always so full of possibilities. It's not like England, with its endless rush and hustle.

Here, everything moves at a slower pace, and I found that I liked it that way. It gave me time to breathe. Time to think. And as I stood on the balcony of my small apartment, I couldn't help but think about how far I'd come in the last two years. Two years of rediscovery. Two years of taking back control over the parts of myself I thought I'd lost.

I remember the first time I visited Italy. I had been heartbroken, reeling from the broken engagement and the betrayal that came with it. The country was nothing like I imagined. It wasn't grand or impersonal like London, but it had an old-world charm that captivated me.

The narrow streets, the rich history-every corner felt like it had a story to tell. And for the first time in a long time, I could breathe without feeling like I was suffocating.

I didn't know how long I would stay when I first arrived. A week, maybe two. I hadn't planned on staying forever. But there was something about the country that called to me.

So, I canceled my return flight and started looking for an apartment. It felt like the right thing to do, even though I didn't know what that meant yet.

As I settled into my new life, I found solace in the small moments-the scent of espresso wafting from the café downstairs, the soft hum of the breeze through the olive trees, the cobblestone streets where the world seemed to move at a pace I could keep up with. Italy was no longer just an escape; it had become my home.

Building my wedding planning business wasn't easy, but I was used to hard work. The first few months were the hardest, though. I had to prove myself in a new city, in a new industry. No one knew my name here, and I had no connections to fall back on. But I didn't mind.

I didn't want to rely on my past or the privileges I had grown up with. I wanted to build something real, something that I could be proud of.

My first client was a young couple, eager and nervous about planning their wedding. They came to me with big dreams and small budgets, and somehow, I made it work.

That was the start of it all-the first spark of something I'd been searching for, but had no idea I needed. The satisfaction of helping others create the day they'd always dreamed of. I hadn't thought I'd enjoy it, but it turned out to be exactly what I needed.

In the months that followed, more clients came my way, and the business grew. It wasn't glamorous, but it was fulfilling. I didn't need the recognition or the approval I once sought from my family.

I had created something on my own, and that was enough. Italy was no longer just a place of refuge. It was a place where I'd learned to rebuild.

There's a quiet beauty in simplicity, and that's what I've found in my work. It's not about the grandeur or the extravagant details. It's about the moments-the quiet glances between a couple as they exchange vows, the laughter shared among family and friends, the tears of joy and happiness that come when you least expect it. Those are the moments I live for now.

I haven't fully let go of the past, not yet. There are days when the weight of my previous life, the family expectations, and the failed engagement still haunt me.

But I've learned to acknowledge them without letting them control me. I know that I'm still healing. I know that love isn't something I'm ready for right now. But I've also learned that there's more to life than what I had once thought.

I'm learning to live for myself-to make choices that aren't dictated by anyone else's dreams for me. This is my journey, and for the first time in a long time, I'm not afraid to walk it alone. I'm learning that I don't need a man or anyone else to complete me. I'm enough, as I am.

As for me, I suppose I should describe myself. I'm 5'7" with blonde hair that falls in soft waves down my back. My eyes are a bright blue, though they can turn steely when I'm upset or frustrated. I suppose I have a certain grace about me-one that I don't always realize I possess. I've been told I have an elegance to the way I carry myself, but I've always considered it a part of the persona I created for the world.

Underneath it all, though, I'm more complicated than I seem. I'm strong, independent, and determined to make a name for myself. But I also have a softness that I don't let people see too often.

I'm learning to embrace all the parts of myself, even the ones I once tried to hide. And maybe, just maybe, that's the most important thing I've learned in all this.