I spent three hours getting ready to meet Liam’s grandmother. I baked her favorite pie, brought fresh seasonal flowers, and wore the pearl earrings my mother had given me. I wanted everything to be perfect. But before I even reached her room, a nurse pulled me aside and quietly said something that would change everything I thought I knew about the man I was going to marry.
I’ve always been a planner. By thirty, I had the career I worked hard for, a condo I bought myself, and financial independence. Relationships weren’t my focus—until Liam. We met at a charity auction, where he accidentally spilled champagne on my dress. He made me laugh through the whole thing, and by the end of the night, we were placing bids on a cooking class neither of us really wanted.
Liam was thoughtful and kind—the kind of person who sent food to my office when I was too busy to eat. After eighteen months together, he proposed with a vintage ring and a heartfelt promise: “My family’s going to adore you, especially Nana Margot.”
I’d already met the rest of his family—down-to-earth, welcoming people. But Margot remained an almost mythical figure. Liam spoke of her with deep respect. So when he asked me to meet her before the wedding, I didn’t hesitate.
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