I couldn’t move. Dad’s face went pale with horror. My friends whispered in shock. The officiant was clearly lost for words.
Brian, however, smiled. He squeezed my hands gently and turned to face my mother.
“You’re right,” he said, nodding. “She deserves the best.”
My mother straightened, her eyes gleaming with triumph. But then, Brian reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a folded document, and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, her face frowning as she unfolded it.
As she scanned the page, the color drained from her face.
“Do you recognize this?” Brian asked calmly. “It’s the credit report you failed.”
My mother gasped, her hand flying to her throat.
“I ran a check,” he continued, still smiling politely. “I wanted to see if the woman who constantly brags about wealth and status was as well-off as she claimed. Turns out, you’re drowning in credit card debt, have a second mortgage you never mentioned, and… oh, my favorite part—you were denied a loan just last month.”
The room went deathly silent. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.
“Brian,” I whispered, shocked by this revelation.
My mother’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
“That’s private information,” she finally
