He Threw Me Into a Fountain at My Sister’s Wedding Minutes Later, the Doors Opened and Everything Changed

where I’d stopped expecting to be reached. We married eighteen months later.

Small ceremony, two witnesses each, no announcement. The privacy wasn’t only about security concerns, though those were real enough given our positions. It was my choice too.

I wanted one thing in my life that my family couldn’t get their hands on. Three years later, I drove alone through Boston toward my sister’s wedding, watching the familiar streets pass and feeling my stomach tighten with every mile. Allison was marrying Bradford Wellington IV.

The invitation had arrived embossed in gold, dripping with the particular kind of presumption my family specialized in. Nathan was supposed to be in Tokyo closing a government security contract. He’d offered to reschedule.

“No,” I’d told him. “This is too important for ReedTech. I’ll be fine for one afternoon.”

“I’ll try to make the reception,” he’d promised.

“Even if it’s just for the end.”