“He forgot to hang up. I heard my fiancé whisper, ‘After the wedding, she’ll sign anything.’ I packed my kids at 2 a.m. and left. The next morning I saw the ‘document’—and realized what I escaped.

The call was supposed to be five seconds.

My fiancé, Owen Mercer, had FaceTimed me from his parents’ house to ask what color the table runners should be. The wedding was tomorrow. My living room was filled with half-open boxes—candles, place cards, a guestbook, tiny bags of favors my kids had helped me tie with ribbon.

“Blush or ivory?” Owen asked, camera shaking as he walked through a hallway.

“Blush,” I said automatically, smiling despite the stress. “It’ll match the flowers.”