“I would not be the woman marrying Ethan tonight without you.”
She looked into my eyes.
“You didn’t give birth to me.”
I nodded.
“You never asked for the title Mom.”
Tears ran down her cheeks.
“But you earned my trust every single day.”
She hugged me again.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Karen stood first.
Then Ethan.
Then the rest of the room rose in applause.
Over Hannah’s shoulder, I saw Greg beside his chair with his head bowed.
Eventually, he looked at me.
His expression wasn’t merely embarrassment.
It was recognition.
For days, Greg had been deciding what place I was allowed to occupy in Hannah’s life.
Hannah had just reminded him that it was never his decision.
—
Later, I escaped the crowded dance floor and stepped onto the balcony.
Cold October air moved over the river.
I touched the white rose above my heart.
Greg joined me carrying two glasses of sparkling cider.
For almost a minute, neither of us spoke.
Then he said:
“I was an idiot.”
I turned toward him.
That was not a sentence Greg used often.
“I thought I was protecting Audrey.”
“I know.”
“I thought recognizing you too much somehow meant diminishing her.”
“I know.”
He shook his head.
“That sounds ridiculous out loud.”
“It sounded painful in the kitchen.”
He winced.
“I’m sorry.”
Through the glass doors, Hannah was dancing with Ethan, Audrey’s pearls catching the light.
Greg watched her.
“I kept thinking love had limited space.”
He swallowed.
“If Hannah gave some of that space to you, I thought Audrey lost it.”
“That isn’t how memory works.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“I took everything you did for granted because you never complained.”
I let him speak.
“You made it look easy.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know.”
“No. Greg.”
He looked at me.
“It was not easy.”
My voice trembled.
“I loved a grieving teenager who sometimes hated me because I understood why she needed to.”
He listened.
“I spent eight years constantly checking whether I was stepping into somebody else’s place.”
“I know.”
“I kept Audrey’s pearls.”
“I know.”
“I suggested her photograph for the memorial table.”
“I know.”
“I never asked Hannah for anything except respect.”
“I know.”
“And four days ago, you reduced all of that to ‘helping around the house.’”
His eyes closed.
