NINETY MINUTES BEFORE I MARRIED HER

“The baby is the only complication.”

I heard my fiancée say that ninety minutes before our wedding.

I stopped outside her dressing room with my hand still on the doorframe. Beside me, Teresa held my eleven-month-old son, Leo, against her shoulder. His fist was curled around the collar of her dress. He was asleep. Teresa was shaking.

Through the narrow opening, Victoria laughed into her phone.

“Once we’re married, Julian will do what I ask. He always does.”

Downstairs, 180 guests waited beneath white roses and crystal chandeliers. My mother had flown in from Arizona. My business partners were already drinking champagne. In my pocket was a ring I had spent three months choosing.

I had been ready to give Victoria my name.

Then she said, “I’m not spending eighteen years raising another woman’s child. Full-time caregivers first. Boarding school when he’s old enough.”

Teresa tightened her arms around Leo.

I stepped back before Victoria could see me. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my teeth, but when I took out my phone, my hand was steady.

I called my attorney.

“David. Make sure the marriage license doesn’t get filed.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I have proof.”

I hung up. Teresa looked at me with wet eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You protected him.”

From the dressing room, Victoria’s voice sharpened.

“Wait. What do you mean Julian’s account is frozen?”