the house, already pulling out her phone.
“I need to call Margaret right now and fix whatever miscommunication—”
“It’s not a miscommunication,” I interrupted, closing the door behind her. “I called every vendor this morning and canceled their services. The venue, the catering, the flowers—all of it.”
Amber turned to me slowly, her face draining of color.
“You… what?”
“You can’t do that. It’s my wedding.”
“Actually, I can,” I said, “and I did. Every contract was in my name, with my signature, paid for with my money.”
“I don’t
