The room stilled, and a fork clattered against a plate. Chairs shifted. Sarah stood up fast enough to knock hers over.
“Turn that off!” she shouted.
“Did he just say freak kids?” someone whispered.
A woman in the back stood. “So this was about Sharon’s money?!”
Oliver moved toward the DJ booth in a panic, but I was already on my feet, reaching for the mic.
“I wasn’t going to do this,” I said, my voice steady and clear. “Not like this. But I’m a mother before I’m anything else—and I won’t marry a man who sees my children as pawns in his greedy little game.”
I turned slightly, enough for everyone to see my kids standing beside my sister-in-law Denise, safe and protected.
“My home is in my children’s trust,” I continued into the mic. “There’s nothing for him to take. I called the county clerk. There is no valid marriage license. This wedding isn’t official. It was all a show for Oliver and his mother—a show to test how easily I could be manipulated.”
The room was still frozen.
“Sharon, come on—this is completely out of context,” Oliver said, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a sob.
I met his eyes directly.
