Five minutes before the ceremony, I called off the wedding.

In my last life, right in the middle of our vows, Sandra Crowe suddenly demanded another 300 thousand dollars as a "marriage guarantee."

She pulled out her phone in front of everyone, chin tipped up, a payment screen glowing.

"Three hundred thousand! Not a dollar less, or I'm not putting on that ring."

Ten years together, and we were right at the finish line.

I forced myself to go through with it and transferred the money. It was what Dad had scraped together over two years for his kidney transplant.

That same night, his condition crashed. I went to Sandra and asked if she could lend me the money back for his treatment.

She yelled at me instead.

"You're asking me for money on our wedding night? Seriously? That 300 grand is mine! Don't even think about touching it!"

Dad missed his window and died in the hospital hallway.

The day he died, Sandra was out shopping with her friends, dropping thousands on a Chanel bag without a second thought.

"Good. One less burden. At least he won't drag us down anymore."

When I filed for divorce, she brought her guy friend to the funeral and made a scene, knocking over Dad's urn and damaging the headstone.

Then she turned around and accused me of sexual assault, demanding 500 thousand in damages.

Mom couldn't take it. She drank pesticide and died.

On my way to pursue the case, I was hit by a car.

When I opened my eyes again, I called off the wedding.

Then Sandra stepped closer, already pulling up her payment screen.

"Transfer me three hundred thousand as a marriage guarantee, or we're not getting married."

I tossed the ring into the trash.

"Works for me."

The smug look on Sandra's face froze, then cracked.

"Asher, what is wrong with you? Ten years together, and you're walking away? Do you think this is funny?"

Dad had just finished dialysis a few days ago. His face still looked gray as he tugged at my sleeve and said quietly, "Everyone's waiting out there. Whatever it is, we can talk after the ceremony. I've got the money…"

His hand shook as he pulled a bank card from his pocket.

I stopped him, tore off the boutonniere, and started toward the exit.

Sandra's mom, Margaret Crowe, panicked. She rushed over, shoved Dad aside, and raised her voice.

"You think you can back out now? There are over 100 tables out there! You really think you can just call this off in front of everyone?"

Her father Logan Crowe's face turned dark. He ground his cigarette into the wall.

"You think our daughter's someone you can mess with? We raised her all these years. It's just 300 grand. Who do you think you're bluffing?"

A few relatives near the front picked up on the commotion and started whispering, glancing toward the back.

"The wedding's about to start, and now the bride wants another 300 thousand?"

"The Grays are already stretched thin. Asher's dad is still waiting on a kidney. That kind of money would break them."

Sandra heard the murmurs getting louder. She covered her face and started crying.

"I'm not trying to hurt you! I just wanted to see if you were serious about us. Did you have to make such a scene?"

Her bridesmaids jumped in to smooth things over.

"Three hundred grand isn't that big a deal. Asher, you've been working for years. Are you telling me you can't even come up with that?"

"Or you just don't want to. Sounds like you're just not that serious about Sandra."

"She gave you ten years of her life! Asking for 300 grand is more than fair."

Sandra straightened, wiping her tears.

"Asher, do you hear that? Everyone agrees with me. I'll give you one last chance. Transfer the money now, and we pretend none of this happened. The wedding goes on. Otherwise, good luck finding someone better than me!"

Logan seized the moment and shoved me.

"Apologize to Sandra, pick up the ring, and finish the ceremony. If you keep pushing, I'll make sure your whole family pays for it."

In my last life, this was exactly how they boxed me in.

Sandra had cried and said she just wanted security, that she was afraid I would change and treat her badly.

Margaret and Logan promised the money would still belong to us as a couple.

Her relatives piled on, saying I was irresponsible.

I didn't want my parents embarrassed. I didn't want ten years to mean nothing, either.

That was why, back then, I swallowed it and wired Sandra the money Dad had spent two years saving for his kidney transplant.

That same night, his condition hit hard. He dropped to the floor, shaking with pain.

I begged Sandra on our wedding night, asking if she could let me use the money for now.

She pointed at me, nothing but contempt on her face.

"He's faking it! He's just trying to help you get the money back, right? That 300 grand is mine. Don't even think about it!"

While Dad was dying in the hospital hallway, Sandra was busy posting online.

[I love my new Chanel bag!]

Now, I helped Dad into a chair and looked at Sandra.

"I have the money."

Her eyes lit up right away. "Asher, I knew you wouldn't let me down…"

"Why would I give it to you?"

Her face flushed. She grabbed the bouquet and threw it straight at me.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Let me make this clear. This wedding is happening today, whether you like it or not!"

I pulled up the transfer history on my phone and held it out.

"I gave your parents 350 grand as a wedding gift, paid 1.5 million for the house, and spent close to half a million on the reception. I paid for all of it. But that 300 thousand is my dad's surgery fund. I'm not giving it to you."

Margaret jumped in, leaning so close that I could feel her breath.

"Your dad's a money pit. Everything you make is going to disappear into him. Do you expect my daughter to live like that?"

The bridesmaids jumped in right after.

"Exactly! Sandra grew up with everything. Why should she struggle with you?"

"If you want out, just say it! Don't hide behind your dad."

"Sandra said you've been coming home late. You're working all the time, and you barely pay attention to her anymore!"

Lately, I had been running nonstop, handling the house and coordinating the wedding, barely getting any sleep.

Sandra didn't care. She flipped the story the second it suited her.

I spread my hands and let out a quiet laugh. "Say whatever you want. I'm done."

Margaret snapped and lunged at me, hand raised. "You ungrateful piece of trash! I'll slap some sense into you!"

I stepped aside. She missed and stumbled forward.

"Mom, stop!"

Sandra grabbed her, then looked at me, her eyes hard.

"Fine! The wedding is off. Pay me 500 thousand for wasting 10 years of my life. One dollar less, and I'll make your life miserable. I'll make sure everyone knows the kind of jerk you are!"

The officiant had already come by several times. The ceremony was falling apart.

Dad was shaking so badly that he could barely stand. Panicking, he bent down and reached into the trash to pull the ring back out.

"Let's just talk this through. No fighting."

I caught his arm and steadied him, then looked at Sandra.

"One more thing. I canceled the reception five minutes ago. By now, the guests are probably already leaving."

Margaret froze.

Logan turned and ran for the ballroom.

Sandra just stared at me.

Then, she rushed forward and grabbed my collar.

"Are you out of your mind? We've got a thousand guests out there, and you just cancel? Have you lost your mind?"

I pulled her hand off me. "I'd be crazy if I actually married you."

She stumbled back, nearly losing her footing.

Caleb Bennett rushed over and caught Sandra, glaring at me.

"Asher, what are you doing? She's pregnant! How could you do this to her?"

I was about to answer when Sandra suddenly clutched her stomach.

"Asher, it hurts… Our baby…"

Margaret grabbed her, voice rising. "If anything happens to my grandchild, you'll answer for it!"

Logan came back from the ballroom, his expression gloomy. He picked up a glass vase and slammed it against the floor.

Shards scattered across the room.

Logan barked, "You got my daughter pregnant, and now you're trying to walk away? If you don't come up with the money today, I'm calling the police and reporting you for sexual assault!"

He already had his phone out, ready to dial.

My phone buzzed at the same time. The report I had asked for had come in.

I opened it and read through everything. My eyes fell on Sandra, bent over and breathing hard like she was in pain.

I let out a short, quiet laugh. "Five hundred thousand, right? Fine. Then answer me this. Whose kid is it?"

Sandra flicked a glance at Caleb. She cleared her throat and forced herself to stay steady.

"Of course, it's yours. You're not going to deny your own kid, are you? If you don't believe me, we can get a paternity test."

I held her gaze, my voice flat. "Good. Let's go. We'll find out exactly whose it is."

Margaret snapped, jumping to her feet and pointing at me.

"What are you trying to say? My daughter's been with you for ten years! Do you think you can just drag her name through the mud like this?"

Logan's face went red. He stormed over and swung at me. "You piece of trash! You don't get to talk about my daughter like that!"

He grabbed a chair and brought it down toward me.

"I'll knock some sense into you! If you don't come up with 500 thousand and apologize, you're not leaving here!"

My dad was shaking so badly that he could barely stay upright. He braced himself against the wall, trying to step in. With what strength he had left, he grabbed the chair leg and stopped Logan from swinging again.

The room erupted into chaos.

I took the chance to pull up the photos on my phone and held it out.

The first was from the fifth of last month. Sandra had her arm looped through Caleb's as they checked into a hotel. The room number was clear.

The second was her medical report. Eight weeks pregnant.

The third was a video of her messaging a friend.

[Babe, I slept with Caleb and got pregnant. What do I do? Forget it. The wedding's soon, anyway. I'll just tell Asher it's his.]

I swiped through them one by one.

Margaret's mouth fell open. No words came out.

The chair slipped from Logan's hands and hit the floor. He didn't even react when it struck his foot.

Sandra went white, clutching her head as she screamed.

"It's fake. All of it's fake!"

Dad took the phone and stared at it, over and over, his voice low.

"Eight weeks? Then it can't be Asher's. He was out of town during that period. He was gone for a whole month."

A few guests who had drifted back to watch started putting it together, pointing as their voices rose.

"That's low. Showing up pregnant with someone else's kid and still asking for money?"

"Going after his dad's surgery money, too. That's cold."

"The Grays really got unlucky with her."

"If anything, she should be paying him 500 grand."

"I want my wedding gift back. I don't want any part of this."

The accusations came one after another, closing in on Sandra. She looked up through her tears, lips trembling as she turned toward Caleb.

Caleb's expression hardened.

He rushed forward, snatched the phone from my dad, and slammed it onto the floor. The screen shattered on impact.

"It's all fake! He made it up to frame us!"

With the evidence gone, Caleb lifted his chin, trying to sound steady again.

"Don't believe him! He just doesn't want to pay, so he cooked all this up to get out of the wedding."

Sandra clutched her stomach, crying harder.

"Asher, you walk out on me and then try to ruin me. I can't believe I wasted ten years on you! I'll kill myself right here if that's what it takes to prove I'm innocent!"

She gathered her dress and ran straight for the corner of the table.