I gripped the wooden railing, my knuckles turning white as my mother’s words echoed through the dimly lit basement stairwell.

“You should never marry her,” she whispered, her voice carrying an urgency that sent a chill down my spine. “She’s not who you think she is.”

My breath hitched. My heart pounded so hard I feared they would hear it upstairs.

“What are you talking about?” Samuel’s voice was laced with confusion and disbelief.

My mother sighed heavily. “There’s something you don’t know about Christine. Something she’s hidden from you.”

I clenched my fists. No. Not now. Not like this.

I’d spent years burying that part of my past, making sure it would never resurface. I had worked hard to become the woman I was today, to distance myself from the mistakes, the shame, the pain.

“What do you mean?” Samuel asked.

There was a pause. My mother hesitated, as if relishing the moment before delivering the final blow.

“She’s a liar,” she finally said. “A thief.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“She stole from her last job,” my mother continued, lowering her voice. “And not just petty theft. Thousands of dollars went missing. She barely escaped jail time.”

Samuel was silent.

I pressed my back against the wall, my vision swimming. It was true. But it wasn’t the whole truth.

I had made a mistake. A desperate, foolish mistake in my early twenties when I had been drowning in debt, trying to keep my head above water. I had taken money I shouldn’t have, believing I would return it before anyone noticed. But they did notice. And I paid the price. I had lost my job, my reputation, nearly everything. But I had worked to rebuild myself, to become someone better.

And now, my mother was using it to destroy me.

Samuel finally spoke, his voice steady but firm. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I love you,” my mother said. “And you deserve to know the truth before you make the biggest mistake of your life.”

There was another silence, heavier this time.

Then Samuel laughed.

Not a bitter laugh, not a sarcastic one, but a soft, knowing chuckle. “I already know.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“What?” my mother snapped, her composure faltering.

“I know everything, Mom,” Samuel said. “Christine told me herself. Years ago.”

I blinked rapidly, tears stinging my eyes.

“She’s not that person anymore,” he continued. “She made a mistake. She paid for it. And she grew from it. Unlike some people, she doesn’t use the past to manipulate others.”

My mother huffed, clearly taken aback. “So you’re still going to marry her?”

“Yes,” Samuel said without hesitation. “Because I love her. And because she’s honest—something you might want to try sometime.”

I exhaled shakily, gripping the railing for support.

My mother scoffed. “You’ll regret this.”

Samuel didn’t answer. I didn’t need to see his face to know his decision was final.

I turned and walked back up the stairs, my heart lighter than it had been in years.

Three days later, I stood at the altar, looking into the eyes of the man who had chosen me—flaws and all.

And when I said, “I do,” I knew I was leaving my past where it belonged—behind me.