We got off the phone and I opened a bottle of wine and ordered delivery and watched something completely mindless on television and tried not to think about the twenty-four hundred dollars or the family Christmas or the sage green bridesmaid dress I was now never going to wear.
## Owen’s First Call
Owen called me two days later. It was a Friday afternoon, and I was between meetings at work, and his name on my phone surprised me enough that I answered immediately.
“Hey, Elise.” His voice was careful. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“I do. Hi, Owen.”
“I just — I want to hear your side of this directly. Claire’s told me what happened, but I know there’s more to it and I don’t want to just take one person’s account.”
I liked Owen more in that moment than I had in three years. This is the quality I had valued in him from the beginning: the willingness to check the source.
“What did Claire tell you?” I asked.
“She said you’re refusing to pay for the venue because you’re angry about the guest list. And that you called the venue to cancel.”
“I didn’t call to cancel,” I said. “Canceling would default on the contract. I called about the transfer clause, which allows a different client to assume the payment responsibility. It’s a legitimate process through the venue.”
“So the wedding isn’t canceled.”
“The wedding is not canceled. The booking stands. What’s at issue is who’s paying the remaining seventy-two hundred dollars, because I withdrew my offer to do it.”