But he had made one catastrophic mistake.
He had let me see it before the door closed.
I stood.
“Harry, I need you to do something.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“What?”
“Take Emma and Lily to Aunt Danielle's first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Why?”
“Because plans have changed.”
“What plans?”
I looked at my wedding dress.
Then at my son.
“The wedding.”
His expression sharpened immediately.
“Did Oliver do something?”
“Yes.”
Harry's face changed.
Not shock.
Recognition.
That frightened me more.
“What?”
I asked.
He hesitated.
“Nothing.”
“Harry.”
His jaw tightened.
“It's probably stupid.”
“Tell me.”
He stared toward the hallway.
“About two months ago, I came downstairs at night.
Oliver was in your office.”
I frowned.
“He uses my printer sometimes.”
“He wasn't using the printer.”
“What was he doing?”
“Going through the filing cabinet.”
A chill moved down my spine.
“Which drawer?”
“The bottom one.”
The drawer containing our mortgage records.
Insurance policies.
Rachel's death certificate.
The twins' guardianship paperwork.
My will.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I asked him what he was doing.
He said you told him to find some tax documents.”
I closed my eyes.
Harry whispered, “Mom?”
I opened them.
“Go to bed.”
“What are you going to do?”
I picked up my phone.
“Get married.”
His mouth fell open.
“What?”
I smiled for the first time since the call.
“But not in the way Oliver expects.”
My first call was to Danielle.
She was my closest friend and had been my wedding planner long before wedding planning became her actual profession.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Someone better be bleeding.”
“Oliver is trying to steal my house.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’m awake.”
I told her everything.
She didn't interrupt once.
When I finished, Danielle said a word I will not repeat.
Then she asked, “We're canceling?”
“No.”
Another silence.
“Sharon.”
“I'm going through with the ceremony.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Possibly.”
“That's not funny.”
“I don't mean the legal part.”
That changed her breathing.
“What exactly are you thinking?”
“I want the room exactly as planned.”
“Okay.”
“The flowers stay.
The music stays.
Guests arrive normally.
Oliver cannot know anything has changed.”
“Sharon—”
“Can you replace three front-row seats?”
“With whom?”
“I don't know yet.”
She was quiet.
Then she said, “That's concerning.”
“I also want the projector we discussed for the childhood photo montage.”
“We canceled that three weeks ago.”
“Bring it back.”
“For what?”
I looked at my phone.
The screen recording icon.
I had recorded the last thirty-seven seconds after realizing what I was hearing.
Enough.
“For something Oliver forgot to hang up on.”
Danielle inhaled slowly.
“Oh.”
“And I need the microphone routed through the reception speakers.”
“Done.”
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“No marriage license reaches the officiant.”
Danielle became very quiet.
Then she understood.
“Sharon Miller,” she whispered, “you terrifying woman.”
“Can you do it?”
“Yes.”
“My attorney is my next call.”
“At midnight?”
“He owes me.”
“Why?”
“He lost a fantasy football bet to Harry.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
It felt strange.
Then Danielle's voice softened.
“You don't have to be strong tonight.”
“I know.”
“You can cancel.”
“I know.”
“You can lock the doors and never see that man again.”
I looked at Oliver's engagement ring lying on the nightstand.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if I cancel, he'll say I panicked.
He'll lie.
He'll tell people I misunderstood.
Sarah will defend him.
He'll disappear.”
My voice hardened.
“I want him standing in front of everyone he fooled when the truth comes out.”
My lawyer, David Rosen, answered after eleven rings.
I expected irritation.
Instead, his first words were:
“Is this about Oliver?”
Every hair on my arms lifted.
“What?”
David went silent.
“Why would you ask that?”
Another pause.
“Because I've been meaning to call you.”
“About what?”
“Sharon, has Oliver asked you to sign financial documents recently?”
My stomach twisted.
“Yes.”
“What documents?”
“He said you recommended we update my estate plan after the wedding.”
David swore.
“I never recommended that.”
I sat down.
“He showed me documents with your firm's logo.”
“I haven't prepared anything for Oliver.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“He said you had.”
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Thank God.”
“David, what is happening?”
“I don't know yet.
But two weeks ago, someone called my office pretending to be you.”
My mouth went dry.
“What?”
“They asked what would happen to your house if you married and later transferred it into a joint trust.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“My assistant flagged it.
The caller couldn't answer one of the verification questions.
I assumed it was phishing, and you were drowning in wedding preparations.”
He paused.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.
Listen carefully.”
I told him about the call.
Then Harry's story about the filing cabinet.
David became completely silent.
When I finished, he said, “Do nothing financial.
Change every password.
Freeze your credit.
Photograph every important document.”
“Already starting.”
“Sharon.”
“Yes?”
“Cancel the wedding.”
“I’m canceling the marriage.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I still need you at the venue tomorrow.”
He groaned.
“I don't like that sentence.”
“I need you in the front row.”
“Why?”
“Because Oliver needs to believe I'm proceeding until I reach the altar.”
“This is not one of your mystery novels.”
“I know.”
“This man may be dangerous.”
That stopped me.
I looked toward the hallway where my children slept.
“Then I'll make sure the children aren't there.”
“And you shouldn't be either.”
“I need evidence.”
“You have the recording.”
“Evidence that he's horrible, yes.
Not evidence that he's already committed a crime.”
David sighed.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to examine everything Oliver has ever sent me.”
“All tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“One name.”
“What name?”
I hesitated.
Because suddenly I remembered something I had tried very hard to forget.
Six months earlier, shortly after Oliver proposed, I had received a message on Facebook from a woman I didn't know.
No profile picture.
Almost no public posts.
Her message had contained seven words.
Ask Oliver what happened to Jenna Cross.
I had shown Oliver.
He laughed.
He said Jenna was an unstable former coworker who had become obsessed with him.
Then he kissed my forehead.
I blocked the account.
