Chapter 11: The Wedding I Called Off

Back in the hotel room, I locked the door and called my lawyer’s emergency line.

At 2:17 a.m., I woke him with the call.

“Mara? What happened?”

“Draft a revocation of access authorization. As of tonight, Grant and Sloane are barred from entering any property in my name, including the Lighthouse Hill house. Effective immediately. Serve it electronically, right now.”

He was silent for two seconds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

After I hung up, I opened the wedding contracts and started calling the numbers, one by one.

The planner answered first.

“Mara? It’s the middle of the—”

“Cancel the wedding.”

The venue manager asked, “Has Mr. Mercer agreed to this?”

“My signature is the only one on the contract.”

The catering director reminded me that the ingredients had already been ordered. The band’s agent said their equipment was being moved in at dawn.

My answer never changed.

“Cancel all services scheduled within the next twelve hours.”

Then, to each of them, I added, “Charge all cancellation fees according to the contract. Send every invoice directly to my personal email. I’ll pay them in full.”

No money would go through the Mercer family accounts. No one would be able to buy this wedding back.

At 3:40 a.m., I logged into my online banking and transferred every cent of my portion from our joint account into my personal one.

Once the balance updated, I emailed my financial advisor.

When the market opens on Monday, sell all Mercer Group stock holdings in my name. Do not negotiate the price. Liquidate everything.

My lawyer sent the notice over quickly.

I signed my name and confirmed service.

Then I blocked Grant and Eli’s numbers, emails, and social media accounts, and turned off my location sharing.

When the little tracking dot vanished from the screen, I felt no reluctance at all.

Outside, the sky was turning a pale, bruised gray.

I packed a single suitcase, left the room key on the table, and went alone to the parking garage.

Before starting the car, I looked up one last time at the top floor of the hotel.

The lights were still on.

They had no idea that in less than twelve hours, there would be no wedding left.

At exactly 5:00 a.m., I pulled onto the interstate.

Before dawn, I had left New England behind.