Chapter 4

Seven weeks after Andrew walked out of our ceremony, he returned to the Vale Hotel with Ivy.

The bank had rejected my dispute because our joint account allowed either owner to withdraw. I had sent Andrew the transfer records and a written demand for repayment. He had answered neither.

His first words were, “Did you bring the dress?”

He wore the charcoal suit I had chosen for him, with Ivy’s white launch pass still looped around his wrist.

Ivy stood beside him, clutching a sketchbook.

“I only need to borrow it once,” she said. “Our lead model quit for good. The investors loved that gown. If I use it for the campaign shoot, they may stay.”

“It’s my wedding dress.”

“You don’t need it anymore.” She spoke gently, as if reminding me of something I should have admitted myself.

Andrew frowned at her but didn’t correct her.

“We need to discuss the wedding,” he said. “I know you canceled the venue and emailed everyone. It’s been seven weeks. You should have calmed down by now.”

“The wedding didn’t end because I wasn’t calm.”

“I handled that day badly.” He avoided saying he had left. “Ivy was facing a real crisis. I couldn’t stand by while Caleb’s only sister lost her career.”

Ivy lowered her head. “This is all my fault. Andrew has spent so much time helping me. Of course you’re angry.”

She didn’t step away from him or let him answer.

Andrew rubbed her back. “Don’t put all the blame on yourself.”

Then he looked at me.

“We can choose another date. Something smaller would be fine. You always wanted a fall wedding, and we still have time before October.”

He made it sound as though we had missed a flight and only needed to rebook.

“There won’t be another date.”

His mouth tightened. “Natalie, I just got home. I don’t want to spend my first day back fighting.”

“Then why did you ask me here?”

“To get the dress and bring you home.”

“The townhouse lease is in my name. Your belongings are in storage.”

He stared at me, finally realizing my warning hadn’t been a bluff.

“You really moved my things?”

“I gave you forty-eight hours.”

“I was in Chicago helping Ivy!” His raised voice drew glances from the front desk. “You knew I couldn’t come back.”

“So I made the decision for you.”

Ivy stepped forward and opened her sketchbook to a campaign mock-up. The model wore an ivory gown with a neckline almost identical to mine.

“If you still care about Andrew, don’t force him to choose between us,” she said. “Lend me the dress. I’ll return it exactly as it was.”

“You can’t.”

She blinked. “What does that mean?”

I untied my coat and slipped it off.

The ivory silk no longer fell to the floor. The skirt had been cut into tailored trousers, and the pearl-covered bodice had become a fitted jacket.

The alterations had cost me part of my remaining savings, but every cut had been my decision.

Andrew stared at me, his expression darkening.

“You ruined it.”

“I stopped saving it for you.”

Ivy’s gaze fixed on the pearls. “Those could have been the centerpiece of my collection.”

“They were never part of your collection.”

Andrew stepped closer. “That dress cost eight thousand dollars. You should have talked to me first.”

“I paid for it. You didn’t talk to me before you left.”

I opened the bank records in my bag.

The $24,000 transfer had gone through the morning after our ceremony.

Over the following seven weeks, payments to Ivy’s suppliers had reduced the account to $312.

I turned the final statement toward Andrew. Ivy read it first.

“Andrew told me that money was set aside for us to start over.”