Chapter 13 - The Wedding That Wasn’t
Saturday arrived under perfect blue skies.
The day Sloan was supposed to marry Thatcher.
The Rosecliff Harbor Estate stood empty of guests.
The flowers had been canceled where possible.
The quartet refunded half its fee.
The catering company retained its deposit.
The venue kept most of the $42,500 while the payment dispute entered formal review.
Sloan stayed in her apartment.
Thatcher went to his parents’ home outside Providence.
Merritt attended physical therapy.
It was not the day any of them had imagined.
Her therapist, Jocelyn, helped her practice controlled weight-bearing.
“Trust the leg,” Jocelyn said.
“I did that once this week.”
Jocelyn gave her a look.
“The leg didn’t betray you. Your sister did.”
Merritt almost laughed.
That distinction mattered.
After therapy, Merritt found Sloan waiting outside.
No makeup.
Hair tied back.
No engagement ring.
Merritt stopped.
“You can’t ambush me here.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because if I text, you can ignore me.”
“That is not helping your argument.”
Sloan nodded.
“You’re right.”
Merritt adjusted her crutch.
“What do you want?”
Sloan looked toward the clinic doors.
“I told Detective Brooks everything.”
Merritt waited.
“I told her I hit your brace on purpose.”
The words sat between them.
“Why?”
“Because I was angry.”
“That’s not enough.”
Sloan closed her eyes.
“I hated that everyone kept asking about your surgery.”
Merritt stared.
“You were jealous of attention for my reconstructed knee?”
“When you say it like that—”
“How else should I say it?”
Sloan’s face twisted.
“I spent a year planning the wedding. Every conversation became your injury. Can Merritt stand? Can Merritt wear heels? Can Merritt use the stairs? Can Merritt make the rehearsal?”
“So you solved it by injuring me more.”
“I know.”
“No. You keep saying that like knowing now changes knowing then.”
Sloan cried.
“Mom kept saying you always become the responsible one and I always become the difficult one.”
Merritt frowned.
“What does that have to do with stairs?”
“I wanted one day where nobody adjusted anything for you.”
Merritt felt anger rise.
“They adjusted things because I had surgery.”
“I understand that.”
“Now.”
“Yes.”
Sloan hugged herself.
“I think I’ve spent my entire life hearing that you’re stronger than me.”
Merritt said nothing.
“And I thought that meant you had more than me.”
“More what?”
“Approval. Respect. Power.”
Merritt almost laughed.
“Sloan, Mom and Dad funded your life.”
“With money they told me came from you.”
That stopped Merritt.
Sloan continued.
“So every gift made me feel like I owed you even when you never mentioned it.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were spoiled.”
“I was.”
The bluntness surprised Merritt.
Sloan wiped her face.
“But I also thought you wanted me dependent.”
Merritt shook her head.
“I wanted you to stop asking our parents to make me fix things.”
“They told me you liked fixing things.”
“They told everyone what was useful.”
Silence settled.
For the first time, Merritt saw how the same system could injure two daughters differently without injuring them equally.
Sloan had been indulged.
Protected.
Excused.
That had harmed her character.
Merritt had been burdened.
Used.
Dismissed.
That had harmed her trust.
Those harms were not the same.
But they came from the same house.
Sloan reached into her bag.
“I brought something.”
A notebook.
Merritt did not take it.
“What is it?”
“Wedding planning notes. Mom wrote some of the payments by hand before we moved everything online.”
Merritt accepted it carefully.
Pages of costs.
Deposits.
Vendor names.
Then a page labeled FAMILY SIDE.
Rosecliff Harbor — 42.5 — BRIDGE MW.
Flowers — 18 — JS LINE.
Dress balance — 11 — BHC.
Merritt pointed.
“BHC?”
“Blythe Harbor Consulting, I think.”
Harbor House.
Merritt turned the page.
At the bottom was a note in Blythe’s handwriting.
AFTER REFI: CLEAR MW + CLOSE NEH.
Merritt felt her pulse quicken.
Clear Merritt.
Close Northeast Executive Hospitality.
The wedding was supposed to end the scheme.
Judson planned to refinance the family home, pay back the corporate-card money, close the pass-through company, and erase the evidence.
The failed refinance broke the plan.
The $42,500 charge remained outstanding.
Then Sloan knocked Merritt down the stairs.
And suddenly everyone looked at the phone.
Sloan whispered, “If I hadn’t kicked you, would you ever have found out?”
Merritt looked at the notebook.
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“No.”
The answer horrified both of them.
