My sister told me she was pregnant with my fiancé's child while I was checking the seating chart for our wedding. The band was already booked, the invitations were on my desk, and a dozen guests were due at my inn for our engagement dinner that night. Mae stood in the doorway with one hand pressed to her stomach and asked me not to make her say it twice. I didn't. I asked how long, and she said long enough that Grant had already helped her choose a doctor. By the end of the evening, my family wanted me to keep the wedding on the calendar, the inn staff wanted to know whether their jobs were safe, and Grant wanted me to believe that the timing was complicated. I owned the inn, the contracts, and the choice to walk away. I still had to decide what walking away would cost, and whether Mae expected me to make room for her in the life she had taken from me.