Alex exhaled, turned to me, and kissed my forehead.
“Now,” he said softly, “let’s celebrate without the person who made today unforgettable… for all the wrong reasons.”
The rest of the night felt lighter.
People hugged me. His cousins told me they were proud of him. My coworkers said they’d never seen anything like it.
After the wedding, Elaine sent walls of texts about how we “humiliated” her.
Alex replied once: “I chose my wife and my own boundaries. When you’re ready to choose respect, we can talk.”
She hasn’t answered that.
My hair’s growing out now. I’ve learned how to style the pixie, and some days I actually like it.
But whenever I see my reflection and feel that old sting, I also remember my husband standing in front of everyone, holding my hand, choosing me out loud.
For the first time that day, I didn’t feel like the girl with the ruined hair.
If this happened to you, what would you do?
We’d love to hear your thoughts in the Facebook comments.
