The Prenup Evaluation That Ended Five Years Chapter 01

The night Gavin Mercer’s family met with mine at a private dining room to set the wedding date, they brought a lawyer.

It wasn’t just any lawyer. It was his childhood best friend, Sloane Barrett, who ran her own firm. She slapped a Premarital Depreciation Worksheet on the table before anyone had even finished sitting down.

“No virginity: minus five thousand. No family trust: minus ten thousand. Five years of dating: minus twenty-eight thousand for depreciation.”

Once the full thirty-thousand-dollar wedding fund was zeroed out, my family still owed thirteen thousand, which Sloane called a liability deposit.

Snickers rippled around the table, barely hidden behind wine glasses. My father’s hands were shaking. He gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

I turned to Gavin, eyes burning. He wouldn’t look at me. He was peeling a shrimp, and when he finished, he fed it to Sloane.

“Cut a check for the thirteen grand,” Gavin said, “and we’ll have the wedding next month.”

I excused myself to use the restroom. Halfway down the hall, I heard Gavin and his buddies laughing through the door.

“Smooth move, man. Killed the bridal budget, pocketed a deposit, and now her parents are practically begging you to take her.”

Gavin scoffed. “Five years she’s been mine. Who’s going to want her now?”

Back in the private room, my mother reached for my hand. She pressed a cashier’s check into my palm. Her fingers were trembling.

“I’ve still got five thousand put away for retirement. If we pool everything we have…”

I looked at the gray threading through my mother’s hair, and something in me went cold. The tears stopped on their own.

I tore the worksheet in half right there at the table, in front of every last one of them. Then I pulled out my phone and texted Elliot Whitmore, the man who’d spent three years trying to win me over. He was heir to a fortune I’d never once taken seriously.

[You once told me I could name my price. Does that still stand?]

…

Scraps of paper hit Sloane square in the face. A few landed in her glass, splashing Cabernet onto her blouse.

Every relative at the table froze, forks halfway to their mouths.

Gavin shot out of his chair and grabbed a fistful of napkins.

He leaned over Sloane, dabbing at the wine on her sleeve like she was the one who’d been wronged.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Tessa?”

He didn’t even look up. Every word dripped with disgust.

“Sloane went out of her way to break down the numbers for you. You don’t have to like it, but throwing a tantrum in front of both families? Have some self-respect.”

“God, there’s a line, Tessa. You crossed it.”

Across the table, Gavin’s mother let out a sharp little scoff.

“No breeding. That’s what this is. Sloane is a senior partner at a top law firm, and she did you a favor drafting that assessment. The least you could do is say thank you.”

My phone screen lit up with a new message.

The sender was Elliot.

[Name it. Anything. I’d sign over everything I own if you asked.]

Beside me, my father had gone pale and was sweating profusely. His face had gone gray. His hands shook so badly he could barely fish the insulin pen from his pocket.

Gavin’s hand shot across the table. He pressed my father’s hand flat against the pen and dragged it across the table toward himself.

“Mr. Vale, we’re practically family now. No reason to let a little tension ruin things.”

“Everything Sloane laid out was to protect both sides after the wedding. She’s a lawyer; she’s seen what happens when couples skip this step.”

“Let’s just lock in the date, and I’ll keep this safe for you in the meantime.”

“Once it’s all settled, I’ll take you to a private specialist myself. Full workup, my treat.”

I couldn’t stop staring at his hand on that pen.

Five winters ago, that same hand had carried a bowl of warm chicken soup to my bedside at two in the morning.

Now it was pinning down the only thing keeping my father alive.

I knocked the water goblet straight into Gavin’s hand.

The second he flinched back, I grabbed the pen, popped the cap off, and pressed it into my father’s hand.

“The wedding is off.”

My father was still unsteady. I got him to his feet, took my mother’s arm, and walked us toward the door.

“Tessa. Don’t walk away from me.”

Gavin called after me.

I didn’t look back. I shoved through the door of the private room.

Gavin caught up to me halfway down the hall.

He grabbed my arm, voice dropping the way it always did when he thought he was being patient with me.

“Knock it off, Tessa. You’ve made your point.”

“I’ll put up the thirteen grand myself, on the side. Think of it as me meeting you halfway.”

“Just go back in there, say sorry to Sloane, and we move on. I’m already bending over backward here. What else do you need from me?”

I shook off his grip and looked him dead in the eye.

“I need you to stay away from my family.”

I turned on my heel and kept walking.

His jaw tightened. He tugged his tie straight, smoothed his jacket, and looked right through me.

“You’re going to regret this. Let’s see how long that pride holds up.”

“Don’t bother showing up tomorrow. Come find me when you’re ready to be reasonable.”