Not wedding planning.
Evidence preservation.
Financial separation.
And ending everything.
Seraphina crossed her arms.
“You’re being dramatic because you didn’t get your way.”
I unlocked my phone.
Her confidence slipped.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
While she had been insulting me against the wall, my hand had found the phone in my purse.
I had started an audio recording before asking Bennett to explain why I wasn’t allowed to leave.
I hadn’t captured the shove.
I hadn’t captured the deadbolt clicking.
But I had captured Bennett saying, in his own calm voice, that I wasn’t leaving until I paid what they claimed I owed.
I had captured Seraphina telling me to stop performing.
And moments earlier, while the phone remained inside my purse, it had picked up enough of their demands to matter to me.
Maybe not perfectly.
Maybe not every word.
But enough.
Bennett stared at the phone.
“Were you recording us?”
I did not answer him.
Instead, I walked down the front steps toward my car.
He followed me into the driveway.
“Josephine, come on.
You’re pregnant.
You’re upset.
You shouldn’t drive like this.”
I turned again.
There was something almost impressive about the speed of the transformation.
Inside the house, I had been selfish, difficult, and ungrateful.
Outside, where neighbors might see us, he suddenly became the concerned fiancé.
“I am going home,” I said.
“You are not coming with me.”
“We live together half the week.”
“You stay at my house half the week.”
His mouth opened.
I had never said it that way before.
Maybe I should have.
My house.
My company.
My accounts.
My money.
For years, I had softened every sentence because Bennett was sensitive about the imbalance between us.
I called my house our place.
I called the money I gave his startup a temporary bridge.
I called his unpaid wedding expenses something we were handling together.
Language had helped me hide reality from myself.
Reality was finished being polite.
Seraphina came down the steps.
“If you leave now,” she said, “the wedding is off.”
I put my hand on my car door.
“Good.”
Both of them froze.
Bennett blinked.
