You lied to Mom. And now you want us to sit here and clap for you? No thanks.” He turned, addressing the guests now.
“Everyone thinks this is a big love story, but it’s not. It’s just two people who don’t care about anyone but themselves.”
Finally, Dad reached out and grabbed Alex’s arm. “Enough,” he barked. “Sit.
Down.”
But Alex pulled free. His chin lifted defiantly. “No.
You should be embarrassed. Not me. Not Mom.
You.”
And with that, he walked out. For a moment, no one moved. Then whispers erupted.
Guests exchanged shocked looks, some clearly uncomfortable, others whispering behind their hands. Vanessa’s mother fanned herself dramatically. One of Dad’s friends muttered something about “kids these days.”
I sat frozen, my pulse racing.
Outside, Alex was sitting on the steps, his little suit rumpled, his fists clenched in his lap. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You okay?” I asked softly, sitting beside him.
He shrugged. “I just couldn’t sit there and watch him lie again. Not after everything.”
I put an arm around his shoulders.
“You were brave. Braver than me.”
We sat there in silence for a while, listening to the muffled sounds of the ceremony stumbling forward without us. Eventually, Mom’s car pulled up.
She hadn’t been invited, of course, but she knew what day it was. She’d promised to pick us up when it was over. When she saw us sitting outside, she frowned.
“What happened?”
