The morning of my daughter Zinnia’s graduation was meant to be perfect — her curls, silver earrings, and roses ready. My husband Joe and I planned to drive separately so I could stop at the florist.
When Joe asked for my ticket “just in case,” I didn’t think much of it. Then a call said my elderly mother had collapsed. I panicked and drove to her house, only to find her fine and tending roses. There was no “Mrs. Peterson.” Someone had lied to keep me away. I rushed to the school, but the ceremony was over. Through the glass I saw Joe and his mother Peggy in our seats, smiling with flowers.
When I confronted them, Peggy admitted she’d faked the call so she could attend, and Joe stayed silent. I was devastated — they had worked together to keep me from my daughter’s big day.
That night, I told Zinnia everything. She chose to stay home with me, watching the graduation video and eating pizza. As for Joe, I decided I wouldn’t let anyone treat me like an afterthought again. I may have missed the ceremony, but I found the strength to stand up for myself.