I exhaled, relieved.
“You’re reading my mind.”
Betty straightened.
“We can’t let this wedding happen.”
“No, we can’t,” I agreed.
And that was how it started.
From that day forward, Betty and I formed an unspoken alliance.
We both believed we were doing what was best for our children.
Or, at least, what we believed was best.
We began interfering in almost everything.
Betty criticized Kira’s choice of wedding dress, saying it didn’t fit their traditions.
I argued with Marcus over the menu, insisting Kira wouldn’t be happy with his family’s preferences.
When it came to the church, Betty and I nearly came to blows.
She wanted the ceremony at their family church.
I wanted it at ours.
Then there were the arguments over music.
The guest list.
The seating arrangement.
Every detail became another battlefield.
But none of it worked.
If anything, the more we pushed, the stronger Kira and Marcus became.
Every attempt to pull them apart seemed to make them cling to each other more tightly.
They weren’t focusing on their differences.
They were standing together against us.
So Betty and I decided we had to be smarter.
I arranged what I called a harmless lunch between Kira and my colleague’s son.
He was a polite young man with a stable career and what I considered good family values.
At the same time, Betty arranged a meeting between Marcus and a woman from their church.
Someone she believed would be a much better fit for him.
Of course, neither of us called these meetings dates.
That would have raised suspicion.
We simply needed them to show up.
That evening, everyone gathered at Betty and Rod’s house.
Bradley and I arrived early.
While Betty and I whispered about our plan, I noticed something strange.
Bradley and Rod were sitting in front of the television, laughing over beers.
I pulled Bradley aside.
“What is going on?”
He shrugged.
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be on the same side.”
He looked at me.
“We root for the same team. Rod’s a good guy.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I am,” he said, taking another sip of his beer.
Before I could respond, the front door swung open and slammed shut.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the house.
My heart started pounding.
I rushed into the living room.
Betty was already standing there, her arms crossed and her face tense.
Kira and Marcus stood in front of us.
They looked furious.
“Are you out of your minds?!” Marcus shouted.
His voice shook with anger.
Kira turned toward me.
“Our wedding is in a week, and you’re setting me up on a date?”
I opened my mouth.
But Betty spoke first.
“We just wanted what’s best for you.”
Kira gave a bitter laugh.
“Best for me?”
She shook her head.
“You think lying to me, tricking me, and humiliating me is what’s best?”
I took a deep breath.
“You could both find someone more… suitable,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
Kira’s entire body stiffened.
“I don’t care what color his skin is!”
She looked directly at me.
“I love Marcus. I want to be with him.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“And I love Kira. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
I looked at Betty.
She looked back at me.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
“We were only doing what we thought was right,” I finally said.
“Exactly,” Betty agreed.
Kira shook her head.
An empty laugh escaped her.
“You keep saying how different we are. You keep saying we shouldn’t be together.”
She looked between me and Betty.
“But look at you two.”
Her voice became sharper.
“You’re exactly the same.”
“Stubborn. Manipulative. Always scheming.”
Then she turned toward me.
“Mom, you spend more time with Betty than your own friends.”
I opened my mouth.
“You don’t understand—”
“No,” Kira interrupted.
“You don’t understand.”
Her voice was firm now.
“I’m marrying Marcus. Whether you like it or not.”
She turned toward the couch.
Dad was sitting there with Rod, watching the game and laughing as if nothing was happening.
“Even Dad is sitting here drinking beer with Rod. If he can accept it, why can’t you?”
I swallowed hard.
Kira looked directly at me.
“If you can’t accept it, don’t come to the wedding.”
Marcus looked at Betty.
“That goes for you too.”
Then they turned and walked out.
The door closed behind them.
Silence filled the room.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
A moment later, Bradley let out a deep sigh.
He turned off the television and stood.
“Time to go,” he muttered.
I looked at him.
There was disappointment in his eyes.
But it wasn’t disappointment in Kira.
It was disappointment in me.
That week, I called Kira.
I texted her.
I tried again.
Nothing.
She didn’t answer.
The silence stretched from one day into the next.
Then came the night of the rehearsal dinner.
I walked into the bedroom and found Bradley tying his tie.
“Where are you going?”
“To the rehearsal dinner.”
He straightened his collar.
“You can’t go!” I snapped.
He turned toward me.
His voice was calm, but there was no hesitation in his eyes.
“My only daughter is getting married, and I’m not missing it.”
Then he walked out the door.
I stood there staring at the empty space he had left behind.
My chest felt tight.
For the first time, I realized that this wasn’t just about a wedding.
I was losing my daughter.
And I was doing it because I couldn’t accept the man she had chosen.
Finally, I gave in.
I found myself outside the restaurant, standing near the window and looking inside.
Kira and Marcus moved through the guests together.
They were smiling.
They were glowing.
They looked happy.
Then a familiar voice spoke beside me.
“You couldn’t sit at home either, huh?”
I turned.
Betty stood next to me with her arms crossed.
“I’ve been trying to catch them to apologize,” she admitted.
“But they’re too busy.”
I sighed.
“We should wait. There’s no need to ruin their evening now.”
Betty exhaled sharply.
“But we have to apologize.”
She looked through the window at Marcus and Kira.
“I want to be allowed to see my future grandson.”
I crossed my arms.
“Granddaughter. In our family, girls are always born first.”
Betty scoffed.
“Not in ours. It’s always boys.”
For the first time in weeks, I laughed.
There we were, standing outside our children’s rehearsal dinner, arguing about grandchildren who didn’t even exist yet.
I looked at Betty.
She looked at me.
“Oh, we’re going to have a rough time together, mother-in-law,” I said, shaking my head.
“Tell me about it,” Betty muttered.
Then she sighed.
We both looked through the window again.
Kira and Marcus were still together, surrounded by friends and family.
Betty watched them quietly for a moment.
“But as long as they’re happy,” she finally said, “that’s all that matters.”
I nodded.
My eyes stayed fixed on my daughter.
She looked happier than ever.
And for the first time, I understood that the wedding wasn’t something I had to stop.
It was something I needed to learn to accept.