Six years ago, my sister stole my millionaire fiancé, the man I was about to marry.…

We held our engagement party at my parents’ colonial-style home. Stephanie helped Mother with decorations, hanging fairy lights across the backyard and arranging flowers. Throughout the evening, I caught Stephanie watching Nathan across the room, but when our eyes met, she quickly smiled and raised her glass in my direction.

Later that night, as guests were leaving, Mother pulled me aside in the kitchen. «‘Rebecca, dear, I notice Stephanie seems quite taken with Nathan,’ she said carefully, arranging leftover appetizers into containers. «‘She’s just being friendly, Mom,’ I replied, washing champagne flutes in the sink.

«‘Besides, she’s dating that pharmaceutical rep, Brian.’ Mother nodded but didn’t seem convinced. «‘Just be careful, honey. You know how your sister can get when you have something she admires.’ I kissed her cheek and assured her everything was fine.

«‘We’re adults now, Mom. Stephanie’s happy for me, and sure of it. How wrong I was.

How painfully, devastatingly wrong.'» Three months before our wedding, I began noticing subtle changes in Nathan. He started working later, often answering texts at odd hours with the excuse of international clients. Our usual Friday date nights were frequently rescheduled due to emergency meetings.

When we were together, he seemed distracted, checking his phone constantly and offering only partial attention to our conversations. More concerning was how he began criticizing things he once loved about me. My laugh was suddenly too loud in public.

My favorite blue dress that he previously adored now made me look washed out. Even my habit of reading before bed, which he’d found endearing, became annoying because of the light keeping him awake. Meanwhile, Stephanie started calling more frequently, always with questions about wedding details.

«‘I just want everything to be perfect for my big sister,’ she’d say, though Mother was handling most of the planning. Stephanie volunteered to help with vendor meetings I couldn’t attend due to work commitments. One Thursday evening, Nathan and I had dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant downtown.

He barely made eye contact, responding to my stories about work with one-word answers. When his phone buzzed for the fifth time, I reached my limit. «‘Is there something more important happening elsewhere?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice light despite my growing irritation.

«‘Sorry, just work stuff,’ he muttered, putting his phone face down on the table. You know how it is before a product launch.’ Later that week, I noticed unfamiliar perfume on Nathan’s collar when doing laundry. It was floral and heavy, nothing like the subtle scent I wore.

When confronted, Nathan explained he’d been in meetings all day with a potential investor, Rebecca Mills, who apparently wore overpowering perfume and had hugged him goodbye. The explanation seemed plausible. I wanted to believe him.

I called my friend Allison, expressing my concerns over coffee the next morning. Every relationship gets jittery before the wedding, Allison reassured me, stirring her latte. Parker and I fought constantly the month before our wedding, and now we’ve been married five years.

But the knot in my stomach wouldn’t dissolve. Mother noticed my anxiety during our weekly lunch. «‘You seem distracted, sweetheart,’ she said, reaching across the table to touch my hand.

«‘Wedding stress or something else?’ I forced a smile, just busy with the final arrangements. «‘Everything’s fine.’ But everything wasn’t fine. I started making more effort, thinking perhaps I’d been taking Nathan for granted.

I booked a spa day, bought new lingerie, tried cooking his favorite meals. The more I tried, the more distant he became. Then came the cake-tasting appointment Nathan had been looking forward to for weeks.

That morning, he called claiming an unexpected meeting with investors. «‘Stephanie can go with you,’ he suggested. «‘She knows my preferences anyway.’ When I hung up, I felt sick.

How did my sister know my fiancé’s cake preferences better than I did? Still, I accepted her offer to join me. The next day, cleaning Nathan’s car before a dinner party, I found an earring wedged between the passenger seat and center console. A dangling silver earring with a tiny sapphire that I immediately recognized as Stephanie’s.

My sister had worn those earrings to my engagement party, a gift from our grandmother. When I showed Nathan the earring that evening, his face remained perfectly composed. «‘Oh, your sister must have dropped it when I gave her a ride to the florist last week,’ he said smoothly.

She mentioned losing an earring. «‘You never told me you drove Stephanie to the florist,’ I said, my voice barely above a whisper. «‘Didn’t I? It must have slipped my mind.

It wasn’t important. When I called Stephanie, her explanation matched his perfectly. Too perfectly.

«‘Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been looking everywhere for that earring. Nathan was kind enough to drive me since my car was in the shop.

That night, I couldn’t sleep, thoughts racing through my mind. Had they rehearsed their story? Was I being paranoid? My weight began dropping from stress, and dark circles formed under my eyes. I started seeing a therapist without telling Nathan.

Three weeks before the wedding, Nathan suggested we postpone. «‘I’m worried about you, Rebecca. You’re not yourself lately.

Maybe we’re rushing things.’ I broke down, begging him to tell me what was wrong, what I had done, how I could fix it. He held me, assuring me everything was fine, but his eyes were vacant. That night, I woke at three in the morning to find Nathan’s side of the bed empty.

From the hallway, I heard his hushed voice from the guest bedroom. «‘Not now. She’ll hear us.

I know, I know. Soon, I promise.’ The next day, I decided to surprise Nathan at his office with lunch. My father Thomas called, as I was leaving my apartment…