No independent borrowing authority.
No ability to add himself as an owner.
I removed his access.
Requested written confirmation.
Then I changed passwords.
Business email.
Accounting.
Cloud storage.
Project management.
Vendor portal.
Client files.
I turned on two-factor authentication wherever I had been lazy enough not to use it.
Then I emailed Deb the recording and operating agreement.
Only after that did I call my maid of honor.
Melissa answered:
“Where are you? Hair starts in—”
“The wedding is off.”
She stopped.
“What do you need?”
Not why.
What do you need.
I nearly cried.
“Keep everyone at the hotel.”
“Done.”
“Don’t let anyone go to the church yet.”
“Done.”
“I’ll explain.”
“You don’t have to explain to me right now.”
My phone began lighting up less than twenty minutes later.
Wyatt.
Where are you?
Then:
Everything okay?
Then:
Melissa says there’s a delay. Call me.
Then Glenda.
Then Kayla.
Then Wyatt again.
The normal tone of his texts felt unreal.
He did not know I had returned to the house.
From his perspective, his fiancée had simply disappeared into wedding-morning logistics.
I answered none of them.
Deb called back.
“I read the operating agreement.”
“And?”
“You own one hundred percent of Harper Studio & Build.”
“I know.”
“I need you to hear it anyway.”
Another.
“Marriage would not automatically make Wyatt an LLC member.”
I closed my eyes.
“What would?”
“Your signed consent and amendment documents, among other formal steps.”
“So their plan…”
“Depends heavily on you signing things.”
“Which I never would.”
“You might have if they presented them as tax planning, succession, banking convenience, or marital organization.”
That landed.
Because yes.
I might have.
Not blindly.
But slowly.
One reasonable page at a time.
Deb continued.
“I also want your accountant’s name.”
“Melissa Grant.”
“No relation to my Melissa.”
“No.”
“I’m calling her with you on the line.”
My accountant answered from home.
Wedding day.
Saturday morning.
Deb identified herself.
Then asked whether Wyatt or anyone connected to him had contacted the firm regarding changes to Harper’s ownership.
Melissa Grant became quiet.
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“About three weeks ago.”
“What did they ask?”
“A man named Wyatt Mercer requested a preliminary quote for restructuring an LLC after marriage.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“Did you prepare anything?”
“A general engagement estimate.”