Chapter 6
His expression was grave.
“Your father wasn’t only trying to protect your inheritance.”
He glanced toward Caleb.
“He was trying to determine whether your marriage was ever legally valid.”
The chapel seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
I looked at the man I had slept beside for three years.
The man whose child I was carrying.
And for the first time, I wondered whether I had ever truly been his wife.
Chapter 2: The secret marriage
I followed Mr.
Harlan into a small room behind the chapel while my husband’s angry voice echoed through the corridor.
He was demanding to know what documents had been revealed.
He was demanding that someone bring me back.
And when nobody obeyed him, he began shouting that I was his wife and he had every right to speak for me.
Mr.
Harlan closed the door.
“Eleanor, sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit.”
“Then stand, but please breathe.”
I looked at the sealed packet in my hands.
“What does this mean?”
He removed his glasses.
“It means we have serious questions that need to be answered.”
“What questions?”
“About the legal status of your marriage.”
I tore open the packet.
Inside was a copy of a marriage certificate.
At first, I saw only the decorative border and official seal.
Then my eyes moved toward the names.
Caleb James Mercer.
Vanessa Marie Lane.
I stared.
The room went completely silent.
I read the names again.
Then I looked at the date.
June 18, 2019.
Four years before my wedding.
My knees finally gave way, and I dropped into the nearest chair.
“No.”
Mr.
Harlan said nothing.
I held the document closer.
“No, this isn’t possible.”
The certificate recorded a marriage between Caleb and Vanessa in New York.
It contained signatures, a date, and the name of the official who had performed the ceremony.
My husband had married her years before he had met me.
I looked at Mr.
Harlan.
“They were married?”
“The record indicates that they were.”
“But Caleb told me he’d never been married.”
“I know.”
“He said I was the first woman he’d ever wanted to marry.”
My voice cracked on the final word.
I remembered the night he had told me that.
We had been sitting in the rose garden after dinner, and he had held my face between his hands.
He had said everything before me had been meaningless.
I had believed I was hearing a confession of love.