Three hours before I was supposed to marry Daniel Mercer, I returned home and heard his mother laughing inside my own house.
“Three more hours,” Patricia said, “and she won’t be able to change her mind.”
Then Daniel answered,
“Once everything is signed, the house and access to the company become my responsibility, not hers.”
I froze outside the door.
I had only driven back from the Grand Ashford Hotel because I had forgotten my late father’s watch.
It was the one thing I wanted tucked beneath my bouquet when I walked down the aisle.
Daniel and Patricia were supposed to be at the hotel taking photographs.
Instead, their Mercedes was parked two houses away from mine.
Through the partially open kitchen window, Patricia continued speaking.
“You’ve put up with her emotional attachment to everything long enough. Her father left her with far too much control.”
Daniel laughed quietly.
“She trusts me.”
“She practically worships you.”
“No,” he replied. “She worships the idea of having a family again. That’s why this is going to work.”
My hand tightened around the porch railing.
My father had died eighteen months earlier.
Daniel had held me through the funeral.
He had helped arrange the flowers.
He had answered calls when I couldn’t.
He had whispered into my hair,
“You’ll never have to feel alone again.”
Standing outside that window, I finally understood how differently he had meant those words.
Then Patricia lowered her voice.
“What about the property amendment?”
“It’s in my briefcase,” Daniel replied. “After the honeymoon, I’ll convince her to add me as an authorized manager. Once we’re married, she’ll stop questioning everything.”
“And the Harbor Street property?”
Daniel laughed.
“That’s the real prize.”
A cold feeling spread through me.
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