A month became three.
Then six.
“Ethan has exams.”
“Ethan’s traveling with his parents.”
“His dad has a work thing.”
“They’re all busy.”
Eventually, I stopped asking.
Then Lauren got engaged.
She called me crying.
For ten minutes, it felt like old times.
“Mom, he proposed.”
I cried too.
Then I asked the obvious question.
“So when do I finally meet this mysterious man?”
Lauren went quiet.
That was the first time I knew something was wrong.
“Soon.”
“Lauren.”
“I mean it.”
“What about his parents?”
“Mom, please.”
After the engagement, she pulled away faster.
Calls became texts.
Texts became short replies.
I invited her and Ethan to dinner twice.
Both times, she canceled.
The second time, I finally asked, “Lauren, are you avoiding something?”
“What would I be avoiding?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
She sighed.
“Mom, I just need more space.”
Those words hurt more than I expected.
Still, I backed off.
I told myself she was planning a wedding. I told myself she was stressed. I told myself daughters grew up and built their own lives.
But backing off did not stop me from checking my phone whenever it buzzed. For weeks, I kept expecting the message that would say, Dinner Sunday? Ethan wants to meet you. It never came.
But weeks before the wedding, I still hadn’t met Ethan.
I hadn’t met his parents.
I hadn’t even seen a photograph of him.
Once, I joked, “I’m beginning to suspect you’re marrying three raccoons in a suit.”
She didn’t laugh.
That bothered me more than the missing picture.
Three weeks before the wedding, Lauren came to my house.
She stood in my kitchen while I made coffee.
She looked nervous.
I assumed she wanted money.
Instead, she said, “I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“Ethan’s family is highly respected.”
I waited.
“They know a lot of people. His father rebuilt his construction business years ago. They’re doing very well now. The wedding is going to be formal.”
I stopped pouring coffee.
“I bought a dress.”
Her eyes dropped.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
She took a breath.
“Please don’t come.”
I thought I had misheard her.
