Walter made terrible omelets but excellent soup. We visited farmers’ markets, watched old movies, and laughed for hours in his modest rented apartment.

One rainy afternoon, I realized I had spent four hours with him without checking my phone.

For the first time, Walter himself had become more interesting than his mansion.

I did not tell him.

PART 2: THE SECRET ANNOUNCEMENT

Three days before the wedding, a courier delivered a cream envelope.

Inside was a simple brass key tied with a blue ribbon.

I immediately called Walter.

“What does it open?”

“You’ll find out.”

“The mansion?”

“No.”

“A safe?”

“Keep it with you.”

I carried the key in my purse during the rehearsal and tucked it beneath my bouquet during the ceremony.

Something about that small, ordinary key bothered me more than Walter’s missing fortune.

Halfway through our vows, Walter reached for the microphone.

The ballroom became silent.