Chapter 1

The day I finished hoarding a hundred sleeping pills, I stood at the edge of the welcome crowd outside the Intercontinental Hotel,

wanting only to see Isabel James in her wedding dress from far away before I died.

The phone in my pocket buzzed all of a sudden, and out of the speaker came my own voice from five years ago:

"Today is Isabel's birthday. I'm going to propose to her."

The younger me laughed, bright and full of himself. "Five years from now, will I have married her? Will we have a kid?"

Right then the wedding car pulled up at the hotel doors, and Isabel stepped out in her gown, her arm looped through another man's.

Into the phone, I said hoarsely, "No. She's getting married today. I'm not the groom."

The line went quiet for a few seconds. "Why?"

"Because… I cheated. I dumped her."

Before the voice on the other end could answer, Isabel had already picked me out through the crowd.

She caught up the hem of her gown and rushed through the people, her hand slapping across the side of my face.

"Maurice Dickerson, five years ago you cheated on me, you dumped me and walked out."

"So what are you crawling back here looking like this for?"

Before I could answer, the young man in the speaker shouted first. "You're lying!"

"I could die before I'd ever betray Isabel!"

The next second, the sound of a phone hitting the floor came through from the other end.

I knew he'd found out the truth about my cheating.

…

"Izzy?"

The man came over from the wedding car and took hold of Isabel's still-trembling wrist.

He wore a tailored suit, a boutonniere pinned at his chest — the groom, Leon Fox.

My wooden crutch stopped beside his gleaming leather shoes, its tip caked with black mud.

"What's going on?"

He glanced first at the crowd watching around us, then stepped half a pace forward, putting himself between us.

Isabel's hand hung in the air, her fingertips trembling faintly.

I kept my face turned away, staring at her dress.

The chip diamonds along the hem were scattered with sunlight, exactly the way she'd once described it against my shoulder five years ago.

She'd finally gotten to wear the wedding dress she loved most.

It was just that the man standing beside her wasn't me.

A gust of wind blew over, and I caught the fish smell that never washed out of my jacket, and I stepped back without thinking.

Leon's eyes dropped to the empty right leg of my trousers.

"So this is Maurice?"

Isabel didn't answer.

The guests around us had already recognized me.

"Isn't that Isabel's old ex? Serves him right, ending up looking like that."

"That's him. Back when Isabel was so sick she was half dead, he ran off with some woman he was messing around with."

"Disappears for a few years and comes running back. Bet he saw she's got money now and wants to squeeze her for some."

Leon pulled out two hundred-dollar bills and held them out in front of me.

"Today's the day Isabel and I get married. I don't want an ugly scene."

"Take the money, go get yourself a meal, and don't come looking for her again."

He let go of his fingers.

One bill landed at the edge of the red carpet, the other blew into the mud.

Isabel stared hard at me, as if waiting for me to blow up.

The Maurice she'd known cared about his pride more than anything.

Anyone who dared humiliate me like this, I'd have grabbed him by the collar and driven a fist into his face.

But now I only leaned on my crutch and slowly bent down.

The moment my weight pressed down, the cheap prosthetic ground into the stump and hurt like hell.

It took me a good while to pick up both bills.

The muddy one I wiped clean on my sleeve, folded carefully, and tucked into the pocket against my chest.

"Thank you, Mr. Fox."

I paused, then lifted my head and pulled my mouth into something like a smile for Isabel.

"And thank you too, Mrs. Fox. Congratulations on your wedding."

The tension in Isabel's jaw loosened for an instant, as if she'd finally found a reason for my showing up.

Her face stayed cold, her eyes settling on my right leg.

"Maurice, where's your leg?"

I tugged at the trouser leg, covering the wooden prosthetic inside.

"Got hurt on the job."

"What kind of fall takes off half a leg?"

She took a step forward, meaning to lift the fabric.

I lurched back, the crutch scraping over the flagstone with a harsh screech.

"Don't touch me."

Isabel's hand froze in midair, her fingertips slowly curling in.

Leon checked the time and pulled her back.

"The guests are all waiting. Don't ruin the timing over someone like this."

She didn't argue, turning to leave.

Just then the old phone in my pocket crackled with static.

The me from five years ago was breathing hard on the other end of the line.

"Maurice, what exactly did you do?"

A drawer slid open on the recording, followed by the rustle of paper.

"You saw it. One point two million…"

His voice stopped short.

A moment later, the younger me seemed to understand something, his voice completely changed.

"So that woman was actually…"

I quickly pressed my hand over the phone in my pocket.

But Isabel had already stopped walking.

She turned around, not a trace of warmth in her eyes.

"What one point two million?"