Chapter 2: Denver

The moment the car pulled away from the hotel, my mother opened the wedding budget spreadsheet.

“Mara, I’ve been thinking. There’s no need to make the ceremony so complicated. We can cut the guest list in half, and the flowers and live band can go, too.”

Her tone was casual, as if she were trimming an insignificant lunch reservation.

“The money we save can go straight to Sloane’s transitional shelter. She’s just starting out, and every dollar should be spent where it matters.”

I looked at Ethan.

We had spent ten months planning this wedding. I had chosen the venue. I had paid the deposit. The band’s set list even included the song from our first date.

I waited for him to say something.

But my father cut in, making the decision for him.

“A wedding is just a formality, anyway. And Mara, once you’re married, you shouldn’t keep working outside the family.”

I looked up. “What does that mean?”

“Your job has flexible hours and no real pressure for promotion. There’s no loss in quitting.” He spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The foundation needs in-house legal counsel. Come back full-time. You can handle Sloane’s certification work and save the family the legal fees.”

My mother nodded.

“That would be for the best. You’ve always been steady, unlike Sloane, who has to deal with the public. You each have your strengths.”

They had already crossed out my wedding, my job, and my future.

All that was left was to inform me.

Ethan took my hand, as if to comfort me.

“Honestly, this might be for the best. You won’t have to run back and forth anymore. You won’t be so exhausted.”

I slowly pulled my hand away.

So, it wasn’t that he hadn’t heard them.

He agreed.

When I got home, I locked my bedroom door and pulled my laptop from the back of the closet.

After entering two layers of passwords, an encrypted folder labeled DENVER appeared on the screen.

Inside was a six-week extraction plan.

Separate joint accounts.

Finalize prenuptial property documentation.

Revoke authorization for the family foundation and Sloane’s project to use my electronic signature.

Back up diplomas, tax records, insurance documents, and professional licenses.

Pack passport, birth certificate, and my grandmother’s heirlooms.

I had written the plan a month ago, but I had never checked off a single item.

I had been waiting.

Waiting for Ethan to stand by me, just once, over the wedding.

Even if he’d only said, *It’s our wedding. We should be the ones to decide.*

Just one sentence, and maybe I would have closed the file and kept telling myself he was different from the rest of them.

But tonight, he had shut that last door with his own two hands.

I clicked the first item on the list and sent an email to a law firm.

*I would like to schedule a consultation regarding a prenuptial agreement and property division as soon as possible.*

Ten minutes later, a reply came. I was booked for Monday at nine a.m.

I checked off the first item.

Then I opened an application for a new bank account, one with a firm that had no ties to the Ellis family, and entered my new work contact address.

When the approval notice popped up, I crossed off the second item.

The clock in the corner of the screen read 1:17 a.m.

Downstairs, I could faintly hear my mother and Ethan laughing. They were probably still discussing which parts of the wedding to cut and how much money the foundation could save.

And I was already calculating what I would take with me in six weeks.

For the first time in my life, a project was officially underway that was entirely my own.

Its codename was Denver.