Chapter 3: The Unknown Number
I stared at the message.
Rebecca was still watching me.
Her chin was lifted, her bouquet steady in both hands, her expression reconstructed into something patient and composed.
To the two hundred guests behind her, she probably looked like a bride waiting for a nervous groom to collect himself.
I typed back one word.
*Who is this?*
Three dots appeared.
Then:
*Someone who made the mistake of trusting her first.
Check the boarding school brochure in her car.
Glove compartment.
She already paid the deposit.*
My jaw tightened.
"Who is texting you?" Rebecca said quietly.
"This is our wedding day."
"Give me a moment."
"Nathan." Her voice sharpened beneath the softness.
"Put the phone away."
Emily tugged my sleeve.
"Daddy, can we go home?"
I looked down at her.
The flowers in her hair had come completely loose on one side.
She was holding them in her fist, petals bent, stem crushed.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
I looked back at Rebecca.
"There's a brochure in your car."
Something moved behind her eyes.
Fast.
Gone.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Glove compartment."
"Nathan, whoever is sending you messages on our wedding day is trying to ruin this.
Can't you see that?
Someone wants to destroy what we have."
"Then you won't mind if we check."
The smile finally broke.
Not dramatically — just a small collapse at the corners, like a wall giving way at its weakest point.
"You're going to humiliate me in front of everyone over a text from a stranger?"
"I'm going to ask you one more time.
Is there a brochure in your car?"
She said nothing.
I handed Emily to my brother Daniel, who had appeared at my shoulder without my noticing.
He took her without a word, pulled her close, and pressed his cheek to the top of her head.
I walked out through the side door of the chapel.
Rebecca's heels clicked behind me on the stone path.
"Nathan.
Nathan, stop.
You're making a scene."
"The scene was already made."
Her white Mercedes was parked in the reserved row nearest the entrance.
I tried the passenger door.
Unlocked.
I opened the glove compartment.
The brochure was there.
Hargrove Academy for Children with Behavioral and Developmental Needs.
Residential program.
Enrollment confirmation letter paper-clipped to the front.
Emily's full name typed in the recipient field.
A deposit receipt for four thousand dollars.
Rebecca's signature at the bottom.
Dated six weeks ago.
Six weeks ago, Emily had been sitting in Rebecca's lap watching a film on a Sunday afternoon.
I had a photograph of it on my phone.
I stood up slowly.
Rebecca was standing two feet away.
Her dress caught the wind.
She looked at the brochure in my hand and made her decision.
"She needs professional support, Nathan.
You know she does.
She's been struggling since her mother passed and you refuse to see it because you feel guilty.
I was trying to help."
"You signed enrollment papers without telling me."
"Because you would have said no without thinking it through."
"She's my daughter."
"And you are drowning." Her voice dropped, turned careful.
"I love you.
I love Emily.
But love isn't always enough.
Sometimes love means making the hard decision that the other person can't make for themselves."
She reached out and touched my arm.
"Come back inside.
We can talk about this properly after.
Today doesn't have to end like this."
I looked at her hand on my arm.
Then I looked at the brochure.
Then I looked at the chapel doors, where Daniel had appeared holding Emily, who was watching us from a distance with her crushed flowers still in her fist.
My phone buzzed again.
*There's more.
May you like
The deposit isn't the worst part.
Call me when you're away from her.*
