Chapter 1

The cheap digital clock on my nightstand showed 8:00 AM.

Today was the day, or it was supposed to be.

Savi and I were going to the county courthouse, marriage license time.

Then her text came, an hour ago.

"Ethan, babe, so sorry, massive family emergency. Dad needs me. Can't make courthouse today. Raincheck? Love you!"

A "family emergency" for Savannah Monroe usually meant a crisis with her prize-winning poodle or a last-minute spa appointment.

I'd learned that over five years, two of them spent here in Houston, working for her father's company, Monroe Oil & Gas.

I gave up a position at a top Austin tech firm for this, for her.

Believed in us, in the future she painted.

A working-class guy like me, marrying into Texas oil money. Her father, old Mr. Monroe, never let me forget the difference.

A knock on my guesthouse door.

Not Savi, she had a key.

It was a courier, holding out an express envelope.

"Ethan Miller?"

I nodded, signed.

The envelope was plain, no return address.

Inside, a single, crisp document.

An official Harris County marriage certificate.

Registered this morning.

Groom: Caleb Vance.

Bride: Savannah "Savi" Monroe.

My Savannah.

The date stared back at me, today's date.

The "family emergency" suddenly made a very different kind of sense.

My stomach dropped, the coffee I just drank turning sour.

Caleb Vance, her personal assistant, a shadow who always hovered, always agreed, always looked at Savi with something I'd dismissed as sycophantic admiration.

It was clearly more.

My hand holding the certificate started to shake.

Not with sadness, not yet.

With a cold, hard anger I hadn't felt in years.

I called Savi. Straight to voicemail.

"Savi, call me. Now."

I didn't yell, my voice was flat.

An hour later, her white convertible crunched gravel outside the guesthouse.

She wasn't alone.

Caleb Vance unfolded himself from the passenger seat, looking pale and unsteady.

Savi rushed to my door, face artfully tear-streaked.

"Ethan, oh God, Ethan, you got my text? I'm so sorry about the courthouse, it's just..."

I didn't let her finish.

I held up the marriage certificate.

Her eyes widened, the practiced tears freezing on her cheeks.

"What is this, Savi?"

She stammered, "Ethan, I... I can explain."

Caleb shuffled forward, leaning heavily on Savi's arm. He looked genuinely unwell, or was a very good actor.

"Ethan, please," Savi began, her voice trembling, "it's Caleb. He's sick. Very sick."

Caleb coughed weakly, a theatrical sound.

"The doctors... they found something," Savi continued, her gaze pleading. "A rare leukemia, aggressive. They said... they said he doesn't have long."

She clutched Caleb's hand tighter.

"Marrying me... it was his dying wish, Ethan. Just a piece of paper, a compassionate act. To give him some peace in his final days. It doesn't mean anything for us, for our plans. We can still... this is temporary."

A dying wish.

Married on the morning we were supposed to get our license.

The lie was so audacious, so insulting, it almost made me laugh.

Caleb, meanwhile, looked like he was about to expire on my doorstep, his eyes fluttering.