The Wedding Bouquet That Ended Everything

For several seconds, Brielle stared at the sheet of paper in Isaiah's hand.

Then she laughed.

It was the wrong response. Everyone in the ballroom seemed to realize it at once.

"That's what we're doing now?"" she asked, shaking her head.

"We're accusing me of some ridiculous conspiracy because I once asked a question about a property?""

Isaiah didn't lower the paper.

"You didn't ask one question. There's a list here.""

"Then let me see it.""

He placed the sheet on the table between them.

Brielle snatched it up.

Her eyes raced down the page, taking in the typed questions, the company letterhead, and the date printed in the upper-right corner.

December 14.

She remembered that day.

She had been working late at the marketing agency when a colleague introduced her to a financial consultant named Peter Lawson. He'd mentioned that he specialized in estate planning and property development. She'd told him she was engaged to someone whose family owned land outside Savannah.

She had wanted to understand what that meant.

That was all.

At least, that was how she'd explained it to herself afterward.

"These questions were preliminary," she said.

"I was gathering information.""

Isaiah's jaw tightened.

"About what?""

"About the family estate.""

"Why?""

"Because I was marrying into your family!""

"Did I ask you to investigate my grandmother's finances?""

"No, but—"

"Did Grandma ask you?""

Brielle looked toward Evelyn.

The older woman sat very still, her hands folded over the ruined bouquet.

"No," Brielle admitted.

"Then why didn't you tell me?""

"Because I didn't think I'd have to submit a report every time I wanted to learn something.""

Marcus shifted beside the table.

"Learning something is one thing. Asking about the conditions under which a house can be transferred is another.""

Brielle turned on him.

"Are you a lawyer now?""

"No. I'm the guy who's been listening to Isaiah talk about you for two years. I know how happy he was when you said yes.""

Her expression flickered.

Marcus continued.

"And I know he never once talked about Grandma's estate like it was something he expected to hand you.""

"Nobody said he did!""

"Then why are you acting like you've been cheated?""

Brielle's fingers tightened around the paper.

"Because all of you are making me sound like a criminal.""

Daniel Reeves stepped closer.

"Nobody has called you a criminal, Ms. Whitmore.""

"Don't call me that.""

The attorney paused.

"Ms. Carter, then.""

"Thank you.""

"However, the questions on this document go beyond general estate planning. Someone specifically requested information about the trust's restrictions, the trustees' authority, and whether marriage would alter a beneficiary's control over the property.""

Brielle lifted her chin.

"I didn't write those questions.""

"Did you authorize someone to ask them on your behalf?""

She hesitated.

That hesitation was enough for Isaiah to notice.

"Who is Peter Lawson?"" he asked.

Brielle looked at him sharply.

"How do you know that name?""

"His name is on the letter attached to this report.""

She glanced down.

At the bottom of the page, beneath the company logo, was a handwritten note:

Client: Brielle Carter. Initial inquiry received by phone. Follow-up requested.

Her stomach tightened.

"He's a consultant. I told you that.""

"You told me you met him at work.""

"I did.""

"Then why does it say you contacted him first?""

Brielle looked toward the windows.

Outside, the late-afternoon sun illuminated the oak trees lining the driveway. Beyond the glass, the wedding guests' cars gleamed in neat rows.

She could still leave.

She could walk out, find a quiet place, call her mother, and let Isaiah calm down before they spoke again.

But she knew him.

If she left without answering, he would interpret it as an admission.

So she forced herself to meet his eyes.

"I wanted to know what would happen to the property if your grandmother died.""

Evelyn drew in a quiet breath.

Isaiah looked at her.

"Why?""

"Because it's a valuable property, Isaiah. Anyone would want to understand the financial situation before getting married.""

"Anyone?""

"Yes!""

He shook his head.

"You could have asked me.""

"You would've told me not to worry.""

"Because I don't marry people based on what they might inherit.""

"Easy for you to say.""

The words came out before Brielle could stop them.

Isaiah went still.

She tried to recover.

"You've never had to think about money the way I do. You've always had someone to catch you if you fall.""

"My grandmother worked herself sick to give me that security.""

"And I'm not saying she didn't!""

"Then stop talking about it as though it makes you a victim.""

Brielle glanced at Evelyn.

The older woman looked exhausted.

For the first time, Brielle noticed that the bouquet was no longer gathered neatly in Evelyn's lap. The paper flowers lay in a small pile on the chair beside her, the broken stems sticking out at odd angles.

Something in Brielle's chest twisted.

Not guilt, exactly.

More like irritation at being forced to look at the consequences of her own actions.

"Fine," she said.

"I shouldn't have asked those questions without telling you. I'll admit that. But I didn't do anything illegal.""

Daniel nodded.

"That may be so. The document alone doesn't establish wrongdoing.""

Isaiah looked at him.

"Then what does it establish?""

"That a financial inquiry was made under her name. We would need additional information before drawing any conclusions about its purpose.""

Brielle seized on the opening.

"Exactly. Thank you.""

Daniel continued.

"And that is why I recommend a formal review of the inquiry, including any correspondence between Ms. Carter and Mr. Lawson.""

Her relief vanished.

"Absolutely not.""

Daniel folded his hands.

"That is your choice. You are not required to provide private correspondence to me simply because I request it. However, the trustees may consider whether the available information warrants further review.""

Brielle turned toward Isaiah.

"You're going to let them investigate me?""

He didn't answer immediately.

Then he said, "I want to understand what happened.""

"I've just told you.""

"You've told me you asked questions. You haven't told me why you asked them before we were engaged.""

She stared at him.

"I told you. I wanted to understand your family's finances.""

"And you couldn't ask me?""

"I didn't want you to think I was after your money!""

The admission fell into the silence.

Isaiah's expression changed.

Brielle realized what she'd said.

For one moment, she wished she could reach into the air and pull the words back.

But it was too late.

Isaiah looked down at the report.

"You were worried I'd think you were after my money, so you secretly investigated my grandmother's estate.""

"When you say it like that, it sounds terrible.""

"How else should I say it?""

She pressed her fingers against her forehead.

"I don't know! Maybe you could try trusting me!""

"Trust isn't something I can demand from you or something you can demand from me. It's something we build.""

"And I've been building it for two years!""

"Then help me understand why you were looking for a way into the estate before you even had a wedding date.""

Brielle's face hardened.

"Because I wanted security.""

Isaiah waited.

She swallowed.

"My father lost everything when I was a child. Our house. His business.

Everything. My mother spent years pretending we were fine when we were barely keeping the lights on.""

For the first time, her voice sounded unguarded.

"When I met you, I thought I had finally found someone who understood what it meant to build something permanent.""

Isaiah's expression softened slightly.

"I know what happened to your father.""

"No, you know the polite version. You don't know what it was like to hear my parents arguing over bills through the bedroom wall. You don't know what it's like to watch your mother sell her jewelry to pay the mortgage.""

She looked at Evelyn.

"I promised myself I'd never live like that again.""

Evelyn's eyes filled.

"My dear, I never wanted you to feel unsafe.""

Brielle looked away.

"Then why make everything so complicated?""

"Because the estate isn't a bank account," Evelyn replied.

"It's a home. It's land that has belonged to this family for generations. It provides for people beyond Isaiah and me.""

Brielle gave a bitter laugh.

"And apparently, I'll never be one of those people.""

Evelyn shook her head.

"That isn't what I said.""

"It's what your documents say.""

"No," Isaiah interrupted.

"The documents say the estate is protected. They don't say you're unwelcome in our family.""

Brielle stared at him.

"Then why are we standing here discussing whether I deserve to be your wife?""

Isaiah didn't respond.

The question seemed to strike him somewhere deep.

For a moment, he looked like the man she'd fallen in love with—the man who had held her hand outside the hospital when her mother needed surgery, who had driven through a thunderstorm to bring her forgotten medication, who had proposed to her beneath a canopy of white lights because she'd once said she wanted a private moment that belonged only to them.

She wanted him to remember those things.

She wanted him to look at her and see the woman he loved instead of a stranger holding a financial report.

So she reached for his hand.

"Isaiah, please. I made a mistake. Maybe I asked too many questions.

Maybe I should've told you. But I love you.""

He looked down at their hands.

Then he gently withdrew his.

"Then I need you to tell me everything.""

Brielle's throat tightened.

"I have.""

"No. You haven't.""

He turned toward Daniel.

"Can you contact Peter Lawson and request a copy of the inquiry?""

Daniel nodded.

"I can send a formal request. Whether he'll cooperate depends on the circumstances and any confidentiality obligations.""

Brielle's eyes widened.

"You can't do that.""

"Why not?"" Isaiah asked.

"Because it was a private conversation!""

"Then there shouldn't be anything to worry about.""

She looked around the ballroom.

The guests were no longer pretending not to listen. Even the photographer had set his camera on a chair.

Brielle's face burned.

"You're making a mistake," she whispered.

"Maybe.""

"You'll regret this.""

Isaiah looked at her for a long moment.

"I already regret something.""

She swallowed.

"What?""

He glanced toward the crushed bouquet.

"That I didn't notice sooner how often Grandma made herself smaller just to keep you comfortable.""

Evelyn closed her eyes.

Brielle's face twisted.

"That's unfair.""

"Maybe. But it's true.""

He stepped away from the table.

"Daniel, I need a copy of everything in that folder.""

"Of course.""

"And I want the trustees to review the inquiry.""

Brielle stared at him.

"You can't be serious.""

"I'm serious.""

"You are going to destroy our marriage over something that happened before we were even engaged?""

Isaiah turned back.

"No, Brielle. I'm trying to find out whether the marriage I believed I was entering actually exists.""

She took a step toward him.

"Isaiah—"

But he was already walking toward his grandmother.

He crouched beside Evelyn's chair and gently lifted the broken bouquet.

"Come with me, Grandma.""

She looked at him.

"Where are we going?""

"Somewhere quiet.""

He helped her stand.

As they moved toward the ballroom doors, Brielle remained beside the table, surrounded by white roses and expensive decorations that suddenly looked absurd.

She watched her husband leave with the woman whose gift she had crushed.

Then her phone vibrated.

A message appeared from an unknown number.

You need to stop this before Isaiah sees the original emails.

Brielle's blood ran cold.

A second message followed.

Call me. Now.

She stared at the screen.

Then she looked toward the doors through which Isaiah had disappeared.

For the first time that afternoon, she wasn't worried about the trust.