My mother reached into her purse. She pulled out a beige envelope. The same envelope she had kept at the lawyer’s office. My heart thudded.
“Three months ago,” she said, “someone asked the building manager if Sophia could authorize permanent entry for ‘immediate family.’ They also asked how many storage units the apartment had, if the private elevator could be deactivated for other floors, and if the master key could be changed without Sophia being present.”
Jason froze. Eleanor stopped breathing. “That’s a lie,” she said.
My mother opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. “The manager has worked with us for twenty years. He told me the same day.”
I looked at Jason. I wanted him to defend himself. I wanted, still like a fool, for him to say: “That wasn’t me.” But he looked at the floor. And that was his confession.
My wedding dress started to feel heavy, as if it were wet. “Is that why you asked for a copy of my ID?” I asked him.
Jason looked up. “It was for the trip.” “There was no trip,” my father said.
We all turned toward him. My father pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and held it up. “The travel agency confirmed yesterday that the honeymoon to Italy was canceled six weeks ago. The refund went into an account in Jason’s name.”

The room erupted in murmurs. The air left my lungs. Italy. I had chosen every hotel. I had bought dresses. I had dreamed of walking with him through ancient streets, holding hands, as if the world owed us beauty.
“You canceled our honeymoon?” I whispered. Jason took a step toward me. “I was going to reschedule it.” “With what money?”
He didn’t answer. Eleanor clenched her teeth. “This is all getting out of hand.”
My mother calmly put the papers away. “No, Eleanor. For the first time, it’s getting into hand.”
Then, the final blow. A man in a gray suit stood up from a table in the back. I didn’t know him. Or maybe I did. I had seen him greeting Jason at the start of the party, whispering in his ear, clapping him on the back.
The man walked toward us with a glass in his hand. “Jason,” he said in a low voice, but the room was so quiet that everyone heard, “I need to talk to you.”
Jason turned pale. “Not now, Arthur.” “Yes, now.”
Eleanor closed her eyes. As if she recognized the scent of a tragedy that had been following her footsteps for a long time. Arthur looked at me. Then he looked at my father.
“Sorry for interfering in a family matter, but if the apartment is not in Sophia’s name, we have a problem.”

My mother turned slowly toward him. “We do?” Arthur swallowed hard. “Jason presented that property as a moral guarantee for an investment.”
My father let out a dry laugh. “‘Moral guarantee?’ What an elegant term for a lie.”
Jason held up his hands. “I didn’t sign anything.” “No,” Arthur said. “But you promised that after the wedding you would have access. And your mother confirmed it was already settled.”
Eleanor brought her glass to her mouth, but her hand was shaking so much that the wine spilled onto her gold dress. It looked like dark blood.
I no longer felt the shame. The shame had been replaced by something colder. “How much do you owe?” I asked. Jason looked at me. “Sophia, don’t do this here.” “How much?”
He didn’t answer. Arthur did. “Twelve and a half million.”
The room became a void. My mother closed her eyes for a second. My father cursed under his breath. I looked at my husband. My husband of two hours. The man who had cried when he saw me walk in. The man who had promised to take care of me. The man who had gambled my house before I even finished taking off my veil.

“Is that why you married me?” I asked. Jason opened his mouth. And for the first time, he couldn’t find a lie fast enough.
Eleanor stepped forward. “My son loves you.” “Shut up,” I said.
She froze. I had never spoken to her like that. I didn’t know I could. “Don’t ever say the word love in my name again.”
Jason tried to touch me again. I backed away. “Don’t touch me.” “Sophia…” “No.”
The DJ, who had been paralyzed for twenty minutes, finally turned off the colored lights. The room remained lit only by the chandeliers and cell phones. No one was pretending this was a wedding anymore.
My mother came over to me. “Honey, we’re leaving.” Eleanor let out a desperate laugh. “Leaving? Just like that? After my family spent money on this wedding?”
My father looked at her. “I paid for the wedding.” Eleanor opened her mouth. Nothing came out. “And the venue contract is in my name,” he added. “So you can stay for dinner if you’re hungry. We have nothing left to celebrate.”

My mother carefully took the cake knife out of my hand. I hadn’t even realized I was still holding it. Natalie came running over with my bouquet. “Soph, let’s go.”
I looked at Jason one last time. I expected to feel like I was dying. But I didn’t. What I felt was worse for him. I felt the love leaving me. Not all at once. Not with screams. It was leaving like dirty water down a drain.
“I’ll send someone for my things tomorrow,” I said. Jason approached with red eyes. “You can’t leave me at my wedding.” “You already did that first.”
I walked toward the exit with my mother on one side and Natalie on the other. The guests parted as if I were carrying fire. A few aunts were crying. One of Jason’s cousins was recording secretly.
Claire, his younger sister, was sitting by a pillar with her face covered. When I passed her, she lowered her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said to me.|
I stopped. Jason shouted from behind: “Sophia!” I didn’t turn around. But Claire took my wrist. “My mom has a key.”
I felt the floor move. “What?” Claire cried silently. “I don’t know if it’s for the apartment. She had it made from a photo. Jason gave her your keys one night when you fell asleep. I saw them.”