When my younger sister got engaged to the mayor’s son—our small town’s so-called “golden boy”—she was overjoyed. And truly, I was happy for her. I helped her every step of the way: picking her dress, booking the venue, organizing the guest list, and even sorting out the flowers when her favorite peonies were out of season.
My husband, our 7-year-old son, and I were all invited. But on the morning of the wedding, my husband said he had a work emergency and couldn’t make it. So it was just me and my son sitting in the second row, watching my sister walk down the aisle in her custom gown, radiant and smiling.
That’s when my son tugged my hand.
“MOM… WE NEED TO GO. NOW!”
I smiled, thinking maybe he needed the restroom or a snack.
“Why, sweetheart?” I asked gently.
And then he showed me something that made my heart stop.
He held up my husband’s phone.
Continue reading on next page…