So that is what I did.

I did not cancel it.

I converted it.

On the evening I was to have married Dalton Ridgemont, that ballroom filled instead with several hundred people for the launch of a new legal defense fund for domestic workers — the exploited, the isolated, the women held in private houses by the threat of a single phone call to immigration.

I sold the wedding dress and put the money into the fund.

And Catalina stood beside me under the lights, no longer a client I was protecting but a colleague in a cause, and when the room rose to applaud she did not lower her head the way she had been trained to.