The first voicemail was from Coraline, furious that the florist, caterer, and tent company had been turned away at the gate. Desmond’s messages were worse. He demanded that I “stop sabotaging our wedding” and reminded me that the stone house supposedly belonged to them now. That was when I called my attorney. The key I had given them had been ceremonial; the deed transfer was prepared, but it had not yet been delivered or recorded. Legally, the stone house and its surrounding parcel were still mine.
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