TWO DAYS BEFORE MY WEDDING, MY FIANCÉ FORGOT TO END OUR CALL—THEN I HEARD HIM SAY, “ONCE SHE SIGNS, THE HOUSE AND SAVINGS ARE OURS.” I NEVER CONFRONTED HIM. I PUT ON MY WEDDING DRESS AND WALKED DOWN THE AISLE IN FRONT OF 100 GUESTS.
Two days before I was supposed to marry Grant Holloway, I stood barefoot in my bedroom comparing ribbon colors while rain tapped softly against the windows.
My wedding dress hung from the closet door.
Downstairs, my three children were arguing about which movie to watch.
Caleb was twelve.
Maisie and June were nine-year-old twins, my late sister’s daughters, whom I had been raising since she died four years earlier.
The house was loud.
Messy.
Warm.
Mine.
And I believed Grant loved every part of it.
He called from his parents’ house to ask about the reception place cards.
His face appeared on the screen for a few seconds before he turned the phone toward two ribbons.
“Sage green or soft blue?”
“Green.”
“My mother says blue.”
“Your mother has been wrong about three centerpieces already.”
Grant laughed.
“That’s why I called you.”
Someone shouted from another room.
He looked over his shoulder.
“Hold on. Dad needs help moving something. I’ll call you right back.”
The screen went dark.
I assumed the call had ended.
I set the phone on my dresser and started folding clothes for the short Chesapeake Bay trip we had planned after the wedding.
Then I heard footsteps through the speaker.
