Chapter 3

The next morning, Ethan's family and Bianca's family flew first class to the Maldives.

I didn't go to the airport with them.

Instead, I took my parents to a private airstrip and sent them to Florence for a vacation. My mother listened to the whole story in silence, then asked, "Do you need help?"

"No." I adjusted her shawl. "I'll handle it."

My father stood by the plane stairs, his bad knee stiff in the cold. "Don't let them spend your money and call it kindness."

I nodded. After their plane lifted, I went to the commercial airport.

Ethan called more than a dozen times. I didn't answer.

In the end, he texted.

[Where are you? What about the twelve trunks? The hotel is waiting for the wedding materials. Don't embarrass me in front of Bianca's parents.]

I replied with two words.

[Don't worry.]

Then I handed all twelve trunks to airport storage and paid the fee. They weren't mine, and I had no duty to play porter.

I never boarded the Maldives flight. I went back to Pier Seventeen.

Before dawn, the dock was cold and foggy. A supervisor looked up from the manifest when he saw me. "Rosalyn, wasn't your wedding flight today?"

"Postponed."

"Until when?"

I opened my laptop and pulled up the resort's payment portal. "Until the groom learns how to pay for himself."

At noon, Ethan finally called from overseas.

"Where the hell are you? We're on the island. The hotel says the master suite needs your authorization code, and the wedding team is asking for you. Stop messing around and send it."

"Didn't you say Bianca pays attention to details? Let her handle it."

"She's a guest."

"I thought she was the one who looked most like your bride."

He took a breath and softened his voice. "Fine. I know you're upset about the tickets. After the wedding, I'll make it up to you. Right now, don't humiliate me in front of both families."

"Both families? My parents aren't in the Maldives."

Silence.

"What do you mean?"

"They're on their way to Italy. Since you decided they were only good enough for economy, I found them somewhere better to go."

His voice snapped. "Rosalyn, do you have to blow everything up?"

"Were you not the one who moved my parents' seats?"

"I don't want to argue. The wedding is tomorrow. Get on the next flight and stop playing games."

"Depends on my mood."

I hung up.

That afternoon, Bianca posted a photo from the resort walkway. A blue diamond bracelet sat on her wrist.

[It feels so good to be cherished. Thank you, Ethan.]

I recognized the bracelet. Seventy-two thousand dollars, charged to my joint card with Ethan the night before.

He made thirty-two hundred a month and still bought another woman jewelry worth more than seventy thousand because he believed I would cover him.

I called the bank. "Freeze every joint account I share with Ethan Bellman. Cancel all secondary cards. And dispute that jewelry charge."

Then I called the resort.

The next day, the Maldives was bright and cloudless.

From my office, I watched the resort's internal feed. The glass chapel over the water looked perfect. White roses lined the aisle. Ethan stood under the floral arch in the white tuxedo I had paid for, his face already tight.

Bianca sat in the front row with my bracelet on her wrist. Her parents sat where mine should have been.

Lila texted me.

[Rosalyn, where are you? The wedding is starting. You're not really making everyone wait, are you?]

I didn't reply.

The wedding march began. Every guest turned toward the end of the aisle.

But I wasn't the one who appeared.

The hotel manager walked in holding a cancellation authorization.

"I'm sorry, sir. Miss Rosalyn Castellano has cancelled all payment authorization for this wedding."