Two hours after I made that call, my phone started ringing. It was not Sarah. It was the catering company.

They were not calling me, of course. They were calling Sarah. But Sarah, in what I can only describe as a spectacular failure of planning, had listed my number as the secondary contact on the booking. So when the payment failed and the account was flagged, they called me too.

I did not answer. I did not need to. I already knew what the call was about.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah called. This time, she was not laughing.

She was screaming.

She told me I had lost my mind. She told me I had just destroyed the most important day of her life over money I would not even miss. She told me that there were 150 guests coming tomorrow — family, friends, Derek's colleagues — and that there was now no food for any of them. She told me I was jealous, that I had always been jealous, that this was never really about the money.

I let her finish. Then I told her that she had stolen from me, that I had given her the opportunity to fix it, and that she had chosen not to. I told her the consequences were hers, not mine.

She hung up again.