"Even though you covered the lower half of your face with a handkerchief, I’m sure it was you."
My heart skipped a beat. I recognized the handwriting on the note; it was Riley’s.
Without hesitation, I snapped a photo of the note with my phone, my voice cold as ice.
"I’m Vernon’s wife. If you don’t want a lawsuit on your hands, I suggest you leave. Now."
There were too many people at the wedding banquet, and even the smallest whisper could turn into a roaring wildfire of rumors.
The man’s face drained of color, panic seeping into his features. Just as he moved to flee, the lounge door crashed open, and Vernon stormed inside.
Behind him, Riley spoke first, her voice laced with accusation.
“Sister, how could you be alone in a room with another man?"
Vernon’s anger flared instantly, his hand flying out to strike the man, sending him crashing to the floor. His eyes then turned on me, sharp and demanding.
"What the hell is going on?"
"I just came in to rest," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady, "When I woke up, this man was here, but nothing happened."
Riley wasn’t about to let it slide. "Sister, people saw him enter with you. Who’s going to believe you don’t know him?"