“I’m sorry.”

Emma nodded.

“No. Really.”

Sophie wiped her cheek.

“I thought I was protecting you.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t even ask what you wanted.”

“No.”

Sophie looked down.

“I did exactly what everybody else does.”

Emma reached out and squeezed her hand.

That was the moment I finally understood what Sophie had actually done with that microphone.

For a few seconds, I had believed she was brave enough to say what Emma couldn’t.

But Emma hadn’t been waiting for somebody to speak for her.

She had spent eight years surrounded by people who believed they knew what was best for her.

Including me.

Kristen picked up the folded speech.

“For what it’s worth, I am absolutely not giving this toast.”

A few nervous laughs moved through the ballroom.

Emma laughed too.

Just once.

“Thank you.”

Kristen hesitated.

“And I’ll stay out of the family pictures.”

“You don’t have to.”

Kristen looked surprised.

Emma shook her head.

“Stay in one.”

“One?”

“You’re Dad’s wife. You’re part of his life.”

Emma looked at her.

“But we don’t need to pretend we’re closer than we are.”

Kristen nodded.

“I’d like that.”

The DJ was still standing behind his booth.

He looked like he desperately wanted to disappear.

Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Emma?”

She turned.

“What would you like me to do?”

The room became quiet again.

Tom stood on one side of the dance floor.

Daniel on the other.

Emma stood between them.

For eight years, she had been finding compromises.

Making room.

Splitting differences.

Choosing whichever answer would keep everyone happy enough to stay.

I expected her to do it again.

She looked at Tom.

Then Daniel.

“Neither.”