I closed the binder.
“Decide whether you’re my father or another person waiting to see if Patricia’s plan works.”
Nora touched my elbow.
“We need to leave.”
I put the green binder in the passenger seat and drove down the hill.
In my mirror, I saw my father remain beside the Hails’ sedan.
For years, I believed the most painful thing he had done was fail to help when Mom was ill.
By the time she became too weak to climb the stairs, he stayed at work late because the house felt depressing. He found errands on weekends. He told people I had taken charge because I was naturally better at caregiving.
After she died, he praised my sacrifice in public and criticized its consequences in private.
I had not finished college.
I had not built a traditional career.
I had not married early.
He measured the shape of my life without acknowledging the weight he had left me to carry.
Now he stood in an empty parking lot wearing a suit purchased by the woman who planned to make me fail publicly.
I drove away before seeing which car he chose.
Stonebridge appeared beyond a curve in the road, its weathered stone walls rising behind open fields. Delivery trucks already occupied the service lane.
Marcus stood in the courtyard wearing black trousers, a white shirt, and a headset. He looked at my wedding dress, nodded once, and handed me a printed task sheet.
“Current status,” he said. “Chairs are moving. Catering has full kitchen access. Florist arrived six minutes ago. Quartet is twelve minutes out. Lighting team is activating the courtyard and ballroom circuits.”
“Guest parking?”
“North field opened. Two attendants are en route.”
“Restrooms?”
“Clean and stocked.”
“Sound?”
“Portable ceremony system arrives in nine.”
“Cake?”
“Already diverted. Bakery confirmed the road.”
“Officiant?”
“Nora reached him. He’s twenty minutes away.”
I scanned the page.
“Photography?”
“Inside. She wants five minutes with you before guests arrive.”
“She gets three.”
Marcus looked at my bouquet.
“Are you sure you want to work?”
“I don’t know how to do this any other way.”
He softened.
“You’re the bride today.”
“I can be both for forty-five minutes.”
“Then at four-fifteen, I take the binder.”
“Agreed.”
Inside the barn, controlled motion filled every corner.
Warehouse crew members carried folding chairs across the oak floor and formed rows facing a wide arched window. Electricians climbed ladders to test strings of warm lights beneath the timber beams. Catering staff rolled stainless-steel carts toward the kitchen.
The florist, Rosa, stood beside boxes of greenery with tears running down her face.
She hurried toward me.
“I thought you would be sitting in the parking lot.”
“I considered it.”
She looked at the room.
“We can build the birch arch near the window. The afternoon light will be behind you.”
“Do it.”
“I need forty-five minutes.”
“You have thirty-seven.”
She laughed through her tears.
“That is why I love working with you.”
My phone rang.
Adrian.
I answered immediately.
“Elise, what happened?”
“Your mother canceled Marlow House on Tuesday.”
“What?”
“She received a fourteen-thousand-dollar refund and arranged a thirty-person ceremony at the club.”
There was silence except for the road beneath his car.
“I knew nothing about this.”
“I believe you.”
“She told me there was a maintenance issue at Marlow and she was handling backup options. She insisted I leave town so I wouldn’t interfere.”
“Where are you?”
“Stonebridge.”
“Stonebridge?”
“I activated the emergency agreement.”
“Of course you did.”
His voice broke slightly.
“Elise, I am so sorry.”
“This is not yours to apologize for.”
“She is my mother.”
“And you did not cancel our wedding.”
“I’m forty minutes away.”
“You have thirty-eight.”
“My suit is at Marlow.”
“Your mother moved it to the country club.”
A pause.
“I’m not going there.”
“Margaret has an office upstairs. Get here. We’ll find something.”
“I love you.”