PART 3
I almost laughed.
Of course.
Of course Lincoln would do something like this.
The man who never told me everything at once.
The man who somehow always seemed to know when I needed something before I admitted I needed it.
I climbed into the back seat.
The door closed softly behind me.
Inside, there was a small bouquet of white roses waiting on the seat.
My favorite kind.
I picked them up and noticed a folded piece of paper underneath.
My hands trembled slightly as I opened it.
There were only seven words.
“Today, you don’t walk alone. — Lincoln”
I pressed the note against my chest.
For the first time that morning, I smiled.
But I had no idea that by the time that car reached the wedding venue, the entire Mercer family would already be standing on the edge of a disaster they had created themselves.
The venue was not the small community hall we had originally booked.
The chauffeur turned onto a private road lined with tall trees.
I leaned toward the window.
“Where are we?”
He didn’t answer.
A few seconds later, the trees opened.
I saw the building.
My mouth fell open.
It was an enormous stone estate overlooking the water.
Not a hotel.
Not a country club.
An estate.
The kind of place my father usually mentioned when talking about people who had “made it.”
There were white chairs arranged across a perfectly manicured lawn.
A flower-covered arch stood near the water.
Musicians were setting up beneath a white canopy.
Waiters in black suits moved quietly between tables.
And parked along the driveway were cars I recognized from my father’s social circle.
I stared through the glass.
“This can’t be our venue.”
The chauffeur smiled.
“It is now.”
I looked at him.
“What happened to the community hall?”
“Mr. Lincoln changed the arrangements.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Three weeks.
I stared at the flowers.
Three weeks ago, I had been crying over returned invitations.
Three weeks ago, Lincoln had held me in our kitchen and told me that the number of people attending didn’t matter.
Three weeks ago, he had apparently been planning something I knew nothing about.
I stepped out of the car.
A woman in a navy dress hurried toward me.
“Abby?”
I recognized her.
Mara Ellis.
The event coordinator.
She had originally been helping us with the modest ceremony.
But she was standing there now holding a tablet, wearing an expression that suggested she had been waiting for me.
“What is happening?”
She laughed softly.
“Your fiancé told me not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“He said you would try to stop him.”
“That sounds exactly like him.”
Mara looked toward the estate.
“He wanted today to be about you. Not your family.”
My throat tightened.
“How much did this cost?”
She smiled.
“That is between you and your husband.”
“Husband?”
She paused.
“Sorry.”
Then she corrected herself.
“Future husband.”
I looked toward the water.
Something about the whole place felt unreal.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
“Abby.”
I turned.
Three people were walking toward me.
My coworkers.
Nina.
Marcus.
And Elena.
They had all promised to help me get through the day.
But they weren’t alone.
Behind them were more people.
Dozens of them.
People from my office.
People from Lincoln’s building.
Delivery drivers.
Maintenance workers.
Receptionists.
The elderly man Lincoln had once helped at the parking machine.
The woman from the café where we often had breakfast.
Even the security guards from neighboring buildings.
I stared.
“What’s going on?”
Nina hugged me.
“You really thought you were going to get married without anyone here?”
I began to cry.
“I thought no one was coming.”
Marcus shook his head.
“That’s because you were counting the wrong people.”
He pointed toward the chairs.
“Lincoln invited everyone who ever mattered to him.”
I looked at the rows.
They weren’t empty.
They were filling.
Slowly.
Quietly.
One person after another.
And then I saw something else.
At the very front row were two empty chairs.
Each had a small white ribbon tied around the back.
I stared at them.
“Who are those for?”
Mara’s smile disappeared.
“Lincoln asked me to keep them empty.”
“Why?”
“He said they were for the people who should have been there.”
I knew immediately who he meant.
Mom.
Dad.
Chelsea.
My chest tightened.
I looked down.
I didn’t want to cry again.
Not today.
Not because of them.
I had already spent too many years trying to earn a place at a table where they kept moving the chairs farther away.
Today I would stop asking.
At 9:43 a.m., Lincoln arrived.
He wasn’t wearing his security uniform.
He stepped from another vehicle wearing a dark suit that fit him perfectly.
No flashy watch.
No expensive jewelry.
Just a simple silver tie clip and the same calm expression I had fallen in love with.
He walked toward me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled.
“You look beautiful.”
I wiped my cheek.
“You lied to me.”
“I surprised you.”
“You changed our entire wedding.”
“I upgraded a few things.”
“A few things?”
He glanced around.
“Okay. Maybe several.”
I laughed through my tears.
Then I noticed something.
“Lincoln.”
“Yes?”
“Where did you get the money for all this?”
His expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
“I told you not to worry about it.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I know.”
“Lincoln.”
He stepped closer.
“I promise you’ll understand everything soon.”
I stared at him.
“You’ve been saying that for months.”
“I know.”
“Are you hiding something from me?”
His eyes softened.
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He reached into his pocket and took out a small envelope.
But before he could hand it to me, a car came screaming down the driveway.
Everyone turned.
The vehicle stopped near the entrance.
A man jumped out.
He was wearing a dark suit.
His face was pale.
He ran toward Lincoln.
“Sir!”
Lincoln turned.
The man’s voice was low but urgent.
“There’s a problem.”
Lincoln’s expression immediately changed.
“What happened?”
“The Boston office just called.”
“And?”
“They said the documents were leaked.”
Lincoln’s jaw tightened.
“Which documents?”
“The Cross Global files.”
I looked at him.
Cross Global.
The same company Kendrick had mentioned at dinner.
The same company that had made Lincoln stop eating.
The man looked at me.
Then back at Lincoln.
“Sir, your name is already appearing in the reports.”
Lincoln closed his eyes for half a second.
Then he looked at me.
And suddenly, I realized something.
The security uniform.
The quiet demeanor.
The way he knew corporate structures.
The way he recognized Cross Global.
The expensive estate.
The mysterious chauffeur.
The private arrangements.
None of it was random.
I whispered,
“Lincoln… who are you?”
Before he could answer, another vehicle entered the property.
This one was black.
Two men in suits stepped out.
Then a woman.
She carried a leather folder.
She walked directly toward us.
When she saw Lincoln, she stopped.
“Mr. Hayes.”
I froze.
Hayes?
Lincoln had never told me his last name.
The woman looked at me.
“Are you Abigail Mercer?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at Lincoln.
“Then I think you deserve to know what your fiancé has been doing for the last eighteen months.”
Lincoln’s face became completely still.
“Not today.”
“Today may be the only day left.”
She opened the leather folder.
Inside were photographs.
Documents.
Corporate records.
And one newspaper article.
She handed the article to me.
I looked down.
The headline made my hands go cold.
MYSTERY INVESTOR ACQUIRES CONTROLLING STAKE IN CROSS GLOBAL — IDENTITY STILL UNKNOWN
Below it was a photograph.
The photograph was blurry.
But I recognized the man immediately.
It was Lincoln.
My Lincoln.
The security guard everyone in my family had laughed at.
The man my father had called “a temporary phase.”
The man my mother believed couldn’t possibly provide me with a future.
I looked at him.
“You own Cross Global?”
He didn’t answer.
The woman corrected me.
“Not exactly.”
I swallowed.
“Then what?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“He controls it.”
The world seemed to become silent.
Even the musicians had stopped playing.
I looked at Lincoln.
He finally spoke.
“I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to love me without knowing.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“But why pretend to be a security guard?”
His answer came quietly.
