I stared at the message, trying to see past the sweet words to whatever might be hidden underneath. Was this the meeting where they would try to get me to sign something? I texted back. Sounds good. What kind of details? His response came quickly.
“Just boring paperwork stuff. Insurance beneficiaries, name changes, that kind of thing. Mom says it’s better to handle it all before the wedding so we can focus on enjoying our honeymoon.”
Insurance beneficiaries. My hands started shaking again. Around 8:00 in the morning, Mr. Peterson called me back. His voice was concerned when he told me that yes, someone had been making inquiries about my trust fund. About 3 months ago, a woman claiming to be a wedding planner had called asking about standard procedures for accessing funds for wedding expenses. She had known enough personal details about me to seem legitimate.
“I didn’t give her any specific information, of course,”
Mr. Peterson said.
“But I’m concerned that someone was fishing for details about your inheritance. Have you hired a wedding planner, Eliza?”
“No,”
I whispered. “I haven’t hired anyone.”
“I think you should come in and see me as soon as possible. There are some things we need to discuss about protecting your assets.”
After I hung up, I sat in my kitchen drinking coffee and trying to make sense of everything. Nathan’s family was in financial trouble. Someone had been investigating my inheritance. Victoria and Isabella were planning something that involved me signing documents and mentioned an accident. The pieces were starting to form a picture I didn’t want to see. My phone rang and Nathan’s name appeared on the screen. For the first time in 2 years, I hesitated before answering.
“Hey,”
I said, trying to sound normal.
“Hi, sweetheart. I was thinking we could grab lunch before meeting with mom. There’s actually something important I need to talk to you about.”
“Something important?”
My heart started racing again.
“What about?”
“It’s better if we discuss it in person, but don’t worry, it’s good news. I think you’re going to be really excited.”
As I agreed to meet him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever Nathan wanted to tell me was going to change everything. The engagement party was everything Victoria had promised it would be elegant, sophisticated, and completely overwhelming. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over the mansion’s main ballroom, where about 60 guests mingled with champagne glasses and congratulated Nathan and me on our upcoming wedding. I stood next to Nathan in a navy blue dress I had bought specifically for tonight, smiling until my cheeks hurt and accepting hugs from people I barely knew. Everyone kept telling me how lucky I was, how perfect Nathan and I looked together, how excited they were for our wedding in 6 weeks. If only they knew what I had discovered.
“You look absolutely radiant, dear,”
said Mrs. Henderson, one of Victoria’s country club friends.
“Nathan is such a catch. You must be over the moon.”
“I am,”
I replied automatically, the lie tasting bitter in my mouth.
“We’re very happy.”
