My sister turned my engagement party into her pregnancy celebration, but when our wedding coordinator sent me the revised schedule, I discovered my own first dance was being taken away. / Chapter 13 / 60

Chapter 13 - The Registry of Secrets

The dining room table looked like a war room by nightfall. The lace runner had been shoved aside to make room for four legal pads, three open laptops, and stacks of canceled checks going back eighteen months.

Paige sat at the far end, her baby asleep in the bassinet beside her chair. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face stripped of the manicured perfection she usually wore like armor. Across from her, Carter sat with his head buried in his hands, his wedding ring clicking against the mahogany surface every time his fingers trembled.

"I didn't think he would actually file it," Paige whispered, staring at a printout of the promotional contract with *Central Ohio Bride*. "Marcus told me it was just standard collateral. He said high-end events always use commercial tie-ins to offset the cost of imported florals."

"You let him sell my wedding dress fitting," I said, pointing to line item 42. "You brought a freelance photographer into my final alteration session and told me he was Marcus’s apprentice."

"I needed the advance, Emily!" Paige cried out, then immediately caught herself, glancing down at the sleeping infant. She dropped her voice to a harsh, ragged hiss. "Carter’s firm didn't make partner last autumn. They cut his draw by thirty percent. We were two months behind on the mortgage before I even found out I was pregnant."

The room went dead silent.

Carter slowly lifted his head. "You told me you used your inheritance from Aunt Clara for the down payment on the nursery furniture."

"There was no inheritance from Aunt Clara, Carter!" Paige broke down, tears spilling freely over her hollow cheeks. "Aunt Clara died with four hundred dollars in a checking account and a reverse mortgage on her condo! I took the loan from Marcus’s production subsidiary because he promised that after the wedding was published, the sponsorships would cover the debt three times over."

I looked at my sister. The rivalry, the constant, suffocating need to be the center of gravity in every room—it hadn't just been vanity. It was a panic-stricken scramble to keep a gilded facade from collapsing into bankruptcy.

"And my first dance?" I asked, my voice barely louder than the hum of the refrigerator. "Why did that have to go?"

Paige looked away, unable to meet my eyes. "The title sponsor," she whispered. "The private health clinic that paid Marcus twenty thousand dollars for the baby reveal segment. They bought the 8:30 PM prime broadcast slot. That was the exact time your dance was scheduled."

"So Marcus sold my four minutes with Ben," I said, "for twenty grand to a private medical corporation."

"He said you wouldn't mind," Paige sobbed, pressing her hands against her face. "He said you were so low-maintenance, you’d be happy just eating barbecue under the tent. He told me you were simple, Emily. He told me you didn't care about the spotlight."