I’m 65 years old, and I can honestly say that my daughter, Rita, is my entire world. She’s all the family I have left. After her father passed away when she was just seven, it’s been the two of us against everything.

I built my marketing consulting business from nothing, working 16-hour days and missing soccer games and school plays, all so I could give her the life she deserved. And I did it. Rita grew up secure, loved, and happy.

So when she called me six months ago and told me she was getting engaged, I actually cried. Happy tears. The kind of tears that come when you realize your child has found what you always hoped they would find.

“Mom, Simon proposed! Can you believe it? I’m getting married!”

I remember clutching the phone, my heart swelling. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!”

And I was. I truly was. Because Rita deserved love. She deserved a partner who would cherish her the way her father had cherished me.

When she asked me to help with the wedding, I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Baby, I’m paying for everything. The whole thing. You pick whatever you want, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do that—”

“I want to. Please, Rita. Let me do this for you.”

So, I did. I paid for the venue, the flowers, the catering, the photographer, and the designer dress that made Rita look like an actual princess.

No expense was too much. After all, I had something even bigger planned. Right after the ceremony, I was going to transfer ownership of my business to her. The company was worth close to three million dollars, and it was all going to be hers.

The only thing that bothered me, if I’m being completely honest, was Simon himself.

I met him for the first time about three months before the wedding. Rita brought him to my house for dinner, and from the moment he walked through my door, something felt off. I can’t explain it exactly.

He said all the right things, smiled at all the right times, complimented my cooking, and told me how lucky he was to have Rita. But there was something behind his eyes that didn’t match the warmth of his words.

“So, Simon, what do you do for work?” I asked, passing him the salad bowl.

“I’m in sales. Tech sales, actually. It’s a pretty competitive field, but I do alright.” He smiled.

“That’s wonderful. And you’re treating my daughter well, I hope?”

“Mom,” Rita said, laughing nervously. “Of course he is.”

Simon reached over and took Rita’s hand. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Grace. I promise you, I’m going to take care of her.”

But even as he said it, I felt a chill run down my spine. Call it mother’s intuition. Call it paranoia. Call it whatever you want. Something about this man didn’t sit right with me.

Still, Rita loved him. That much was obvious from the way she looked at him, like he hung the moon and stars just for her. And who was I to stand in the way of my daughter’s happiness based on nothing but a bad feeling?

So I swallowed my instincts. I smiled and welcomed him into our family.

The wedding day arrived on a perfect Saturday afternoon in June. The venue was stunning, an outdoor garden with white roses everywhere and string lights that would twinkle once the sun went down. Rita looked absolutely radiant in her dress, her face glowing with joy as I helped her with her veil.

“Mom, I can’t believe this is really happening,” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears.

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart. Your father would be so proud.” I kissed her cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup.

The ceremony was perfect. Rita walked down the aisle with me, since her father wasn’t there to do it. When we reached the altar and I placed her hand in Simon’s, I looked him straight in the eye, silently warning him to take care of her. He nodded with that same smooth smile.

Then, they exchanged vows. Rita’s voice trembled with emotion as she promised to love him forever, through better or worse, richer or poorer. Simon’s vows were equally beautiful and convincing. When the officiant pronounced them husband and wife and they kissed, the guests erupted in applause.

I thought, in that moment, that I’d never been happier.

The reception was in full swing. Rita was surrounded by friends and family, accepting congratulations, laughing, dancing, and absolutely glowing with happiness. I stood off to the side with a glass of champagne, watching her and feeling my heart swell with love and pride.

That’s when I noticed something strange.

Megan, Rita’s bridesmaid and college friend, was standing near the bar. But she wasn’t mingling with the other guests. She was staring at Simon with an intensity that made my stomach twist. And then she walked over to him, leaned in close, and whispered something in his ear.

Simon’s face flushed. He glanced around quickly, checking to see if anyone was watching. Then he stood up, took Megan’s hand, and the two of them walked toward the back of the venue, away from the crowd.

My instincts screamed at me. Something was very, very wrong.