“I’m not coming.”
Silence followed.
Then I heard Vanessa in the background.
“Tell her to stop acting like a spoiled princess.”
Ethan chuckled.
“You heard her. Grow up.”
I nearly smiled.
“Enjoy your reception, Ethan.”
I hung up.
Dad sat opposite me, his expression growing serious.
“Tell me everything.”
I recounted the incident.
He listened silently before asking one question.
“Are you absolutely certain you want to end this marriage?”
“Yes.”
He nodded and picked up his phone.
Our family lawyer, Rebecca Hayes, arrived forty minutes afterward.
I handed her the prenuptial agreement Ethan had signed six weeks before.
It safeguarded my ownership interests and specified that marriage alone gave neither spouse rights to the other’s premarital assets.
Ethan had hardly read it.
He’d been preoccupied with bragging about joining the Whitmore family.
Rebecca reviewed the paperwork.
“The marriage certificate hasn’t been filed yet, but the ceremony may still have created a legal marriage. We’ll handle the dissolution properly.”
