Wendy made it clear—my grandson Alex wasn’t welcome at her wedding. She said, “He’s not my child!” and refused to include him in photos. My son Matthew stayed quiet, but I couldn’t.
On the big day, I dressed Alex in a little gray suit. He carried flowers, whispering, “I’m happy she’s going to be my new mommy.” At the reception, Wendy snapped, “I don’t want him in any photos.” Her words silenced the room.
What she didn’t know was that I’d hired another photographer. He captured Alex reaching for his father’s hand and Wendy’s cold rejection. Later, I handed Matthew the album. He studied every picture and whispered, “She hates my son.”
By the end of the month, Matthew filed for divorce. Today, he and Alex live together in a smaller home filled with laughter, forts, and grilled cheese dinners. Sometimes, love isn’t about perfect photos—it’s about who chooses to stay.