But she was done begging for a seat at any table where her child was not safe.
Years later, you would sit at your own table with Mateo laughing, Julian cooking, your father telling terrible jokes, your mother choosing her words carefully, and peace sitting beside you like an old friend.
And you would understand.
Isabella’s wedding did not end your family.
It revealed which parts of it were real.
The groom took the microphone.
The wedding stopped.
The room went silent.
And for the first time in your life, so did the lie that you were unwanted.
You were wanted.
By your son.
By the life waiting outside that ballroom.
