I was buried in spreadsheets, exhausted and sore from hours of work. The office was eerily quiet, the sky outside deep indigo, the fluorescent lights buzzing above.
Just as I reached for my coat, Michael—my sharply dressed boss—walked in and dropped a thick report on my desk.
“I need this by morning,” he said.
“It’s almost 8. I’ve been here since before nine.”
He didn’t blink. “It needs to be done.”
As he left, he paused like he wanted to say more, then just shook his head.
Later, in my car, my phone rang.
“Alice!” chirped Aunt Jenny. “Don’t forget, you’re taking me to your mother’s wedding!”
I froze. “She’s getting married?”
I drove straight to Mom’s. She opened the door in her old pink slippers, cardigan smelling of lilac and tea.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know how,” she said. “It’s easier this way.”
“For whom?” I asked, voice cracking.
“You’ve been under stress. I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“I’m your daughter,” I snapped.
Her eyes were full of regret. I walked away, determined to be at that wedding—invited or not.
A week later, I picked up Aunt Jenny. My stomach churned.
At the church, I saw my mom in a soft cream dress—radiant. Then I saw the groom.
Michael.
I gasped. “You’re marrying my boss?!”
Gasps rippled through the church.
“This isn’t your place,” Mom said quietly.
“Not my place?” I hissed. “You knew I hated him.”
Michael turned and walked out. I followed.
“I shouldn’t come between you and your mom,” he said.
“I was wrong,” I admitted. “I thought you were targeting me.”
“I saw your potential,” he said. “But I handled it badly.”
“She didn’t invite me because she thought it would hurt,” I realized.
We stood silently. Then I said, “She needs you.”
He nodded, and we returned together.
The ceremony started late. I sat beside Aunt Jenny, who squeezed my hand. When Michael walked in, Mom lit up.
During the vows, Michael looked at me.
“To Alice,” he said, “who makes me better.”
Later, under lanterns and laughter, Mom hugged me.
“You okay with this?”
“You deserve this,” I said.
She kissed my forehead. “And so do you.”
Michael laid a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t pull away.
That night, my mom got married. And I didn’t feel left behind—I felt like I’d found her again.