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The Wedding Day—and the Unthinkable Revelation
A week later, I pulled up in front of Aunt Jenny’s place. She stood waiting on the curb, decked out in a floral dress and floppy sunhat, carrying a purse that could double as luggage. She chattered the entire way to the church—about her cat, her neighbor’s hydrangeas, her car’s sputtering engine—but I barely registered a word. My mind was racing.
As we arrived and entered the small chapel, I scanned the room. Then I saw her.
My mom stood at the altar, glowing in a soft cream dress that made her look radiant and nervous all at once. And beside her stood the groom.
Michael.
My breath left me in a gasp. “You’re marrying my boss?!”
The room fell silent.
My mom’s face didn’t change. She looked at me, calm but determined.
“This isn’t your place,” she said softly.
“Not my place?” I choked out. “You knew how much I despised him.”
Michael looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “Maybe I should go.”
“No,” my mom said, but he was already moving toward the doors.
I followed him.
Confrontation in the Parking Lot
Outside, the wind tugged at his coat. He stood near the edge of the lot, staring at the sky.
“Michael,” I called.
He turned slowly. “I never meant to come between you and your mother.”
“You didn’t,” I said. “I did.”
He blinked, surprised.
“I thought you were out to make my life miserable at work. I took it personally.”
“I pushed you because I saw potential,” he said. “But I handled it badly. I’m sorry.”
“I hated you for it,” I admitted.
“And I earned it,” he replied.
I hesitated. “But I don’t get to decide who makes my mom happy.”
“She didn’t invite you because she thought it would break your heart,” he murmured.
“She was trying to protect me,” I whispered.
We stood in silence. The wind had quieted. I looked back at the chapel, glowing with warm light.
“She needs you,” I said.
He nodded.
And together, we walked back inside.
When Everything Changed
The ceremony started late. No one seemed to care. Aunt Jenny clutched my hand like it was a lifeline.
Then the doors opened. Michael reappeared, walking slowly back to the front of the church. When my mom saw him, her whole face transformed. Her eyes lit up like stained glass catching morning sun.
They said their vows under golden light and soft music. My mother’s voice trembled when she said his name.
Then Michael looked at me as he spoke.
“To Alice,” he said, voice strong but filled with emotion, “who makes me better.”
I wasn’t expecting it. The words settled in my heart like something delicate and true.
A New Beginning
Later, at the reception—held in the backyard of a family friend under string lights and surrounded by homemade dishes—I stood next to my mom as she pulled me into a hug.
“You okay with this?” she asked gently.
I nodded. “You deserve this.”
She smiled, brushing a hand through my hair like she used to. “And so do you.”
Michael approached, hesitated, then placed a warm hand on my shoulder.
This time, I didn’t pull away.
That night, my mom got married—not just to a man I once resented, but to someone who saw her, loved her, and now, in some strange twist of fate, also saw me.
And instead of feeling left behind, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I had found her again.
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