"Vanessa, be quiet."
She spun toward him.
"Now you're against me, too?"
"You're making things worse."
"Because everyone is terrified of her money."
She pointed at my mother.
"That's what's happening here."
Evelyn didn't respond.
But I did.
"The money just made you stop pretending."
Vanessa stared at me with tears in her eyes, although I couldn't tell whether they came from sadness or anger.
"So what now? You're canceling the wedding and running back to Mommy?"
"Leave her out of this."
"She started all of this!"
My father stepped forward.
Mom raised her hand again.
"No," she said. "Let her finish."
Vanessa pointed at the documents.
"She showed up with an attorney and an eighteen-million-dollar transfer. Don't tell me she wasn't expecting to cause a scene."
Arthur Bell spoke for the first time since explaining the documents.
"The transfer was scheduled six weeks ago."
Vanessa fell silent.
Arthur continued.
"My presence tonight was requested only because Mrs. Hale wanted to personally deliver a copy of the documentation after the ceremony. I arrived earlier than planned because she called me when the letter was destroyed."
That eliminated the last excuse.
My mother hadn't created the scene.
Vanessa had.
Richard rubbed a hand over his face.
"We can fix this."
His words left me feeling deeply exhausted.
"What exactly do you want to fix?"
"The ceremony. The guests. The press. You two can discuss everything privately afterward."
"You want me to get married first and figure out later whether I respect my wife?"
"Ethan, don't be naive. Weddings are emotional."
"Humiliating my mother wasn't an emotional accident."
Richard lowered his voice.
"Think about what you're doing."
I did.
I thought about the deposits, the press, the guests, and the months of preparation.
I thought about Vanessa's dress, the flowers, and the hundreds of people who had traveled to be there.
Then I thought about my mother's face when she walked into the ballroom.
She hadn't asked me to cancel anything.
She hadn't even asked me to choose between them.
She had simply endured a public humiliation and waited to see what kind of man her son would be.
That realization hurt worse than any criticism.
I moved closer to Vanessa.
"I want an answer."
"To what?"
"If my mother really had been poor, if that box had contained nothing but a letter, and if eighteen million dollars had never existed, would you be sorry?"
Vanessa opened her mouth.
I waited.
She looked at her father.
Then at the guests.
Finally, she looked at me.
"That's hypothetical."
I felt something inside me shut down.
"No."
"Ethan..."
"That was the simplest question of the entire night."
