Patricia hesitated, staring at the envelope as if it were a live coal. The entire room seemed to lean closer, waiting. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she tore it open and unfolded the paper.
Her lips parted, and her voice faltered as she read Ethan’s words aloud:
“Mom, if you’re reading this, it means you chose to shame the woman I love on the most important day of our lives. Know this: Claire is not a burden. She is my blessing. Lily is not baggage. She is my daughter. From this day forward, they are my family, and anyone who cannot respect that will not have a place in our lives.”
A ripple went through the guests—whispers, gasps, nods of approval.
Patricia’s face flushed crimson. She tried to laugh it off, but the silence was suffocating. No one laughed with her.
Ethan stood, his hand still wrapped around mine. “Mom,” he said firmly, his voice carrying across the hall, “I love you. But today isn’t about you. It’s about the family I’ve chosen. If you can’t celebrate that, you’re free to leave.”
The weight of his words hung heavy. Patricia’s glass shook in her hand. Finally, she set it down and sank back into her chair, defeated.
