It was just like any other tiring Tuesday at first. I was hunched over my desk, surrounded by spreadsheets, and trying to put together another version of a report that just wouldn’t work. I had a dull soreness in my neck that had spread to my shoulders, and my eyes hurt from looking at the screen all day. It was weird that the office was almost completely quiet. That kind of quiet doesn’t happen till the usual people have departed and gone home.
I glanced out the window. The night sky had become a deep, velvety blue. The lights in the city gleamed like promises from far away that I didn’t have time to keep. The fluorescent lights above hummed softly, giving off a sterile glow that made the office look even more empty after hours.
At last, I leaned back and got my coat. I was ready to go to sleep and get away from the boring quiet.
After that, the door creaked open.
Michael, my boss, came in.
He was constantly at ease. He had fine clothes and polished shoes, and his face could either make you feel good or rip you apart, depending on the day. He was in his 50s, had silver hair that made him look dignified, and eyes that seemed to see more than you wanted to display.
He put a hefty packet on my desk and didn’t say anything.
Without looking at me, he remarked in a calm voice, “I need this done by tonight.” “Last report.” “On my desk in the morning.”
It was 7:53 PM when I checked.
I said, “Michael, I’ve been here since before nine,” attempting to make my voice as calm as I could.
He nodded a little. “I know.” But it has to be done.
Then he stopped, as if he was going to say something else, and his mouth opened a little. But he swallowed whatever thought was on the tip of his tongue.
“Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. “Not right now.”
He got up and walked away.
I sat there, my heart beating, astonished and angry.
I kept telling myself that I only had six months left. In six months, I would be done with both this work and him for good.
A Call That Made Everything Different
Later that night, I was slumped in the driver’s seat of my car with the heating on low, and my phone rang. Aunt Jenny was there.
In her normal cheerful, unfiltered attitude, she said, “Alice!” “Don’t forget that you’re taking me to the wedding!”
I frowned. “Which wedding?”
She laughed like I was being shy. “Your mother’s wedding!” “Don’t be stupid.”
Those words really hurt me.
“Mom’s getting married?”
There was a long wait.
“Didn’t she say anything to you?” Jenny asked, her voice now quieter and more deliberate.
I didn’t say anything. I hung up and went straight to my mom’s house. My knuckles were white because I grabbed the wheel so firmly.
The Door She Didn’t Want to Go Through
She opened the door in her usual pink slippers and that old sweater she wore when it got cold. It still smelt a little like lilacs and tea, which were smells I knew from when I was a kid. She seemed the same in every way, yet all of a sudden it was different.
“Why didn’t you let me know you were getting married?” I asked, and my voice shook.
She looked down and brushed off what she thought was lint off her sleeve. “I was going to.” I just didn’t know how.
“Do I even get to go?”
Her silence told me everything before she nodded.
“It’s better this way,” she said softly.
“Who for?” I lost it. “Because it doesn’t make things easier for me.”
She said, “You’ve been through so much.” “I didn’t want to add to it.”
I gazed at her with pain in my eyes. “I’m not a kid.” You are my daughter.
She looked me in the eye, and I could see layers of remorse, fear, despair, and maybe even guilt in hers. I turned around and walked away before the tears could fall.
But one thing was clear: I was going to the wedding.
The Shocking Truth About the Wedding Day
I parked in front of Aunt Jenny’s house a week later. She stood on the curb with a floral dress and a floppy sunhat. Her purse might also be used as a suitcase. I could hardly understand anything she said on the drive to church. She talked about her cat, her neighbor’s hydrangeas, and her car’s engine that was stuttering. My mind was racing.
I looked around when we got there and stepped into the small chapel. I saw her then.
My mom looked both lovely and nervous as she stood at the altar in a delicate cream dress. The groom was right next to her.
Mike.
I gasped and couldn’t breathe. “Are you going to marry my boss?”
The room became quiet.
My mom’s face didn’t change. She looked at me, calm but sure of herself.
She said softly, “This isn’t your place.”
“Not my place?” I couldn’t breathe. “You knew how much I hated him.”
Michael’s stomach looked like it had been punched. “Maybe I should go.”
“No,” my mom said, but he was already on his way to the door.
I went after him.
Battle in the Parking Lot
The wind outside tugged on his coat. He was standing near to the edge of the lot and looked up at the sky.
“Michael!” I shouted.
He gently turned around. “I never meant to get in the way of you and your mom.”
I told you, “You didn’t.” “I did.”
He blinked, surprised.
“I thought you were trying to make my job hard.” I took it to heart.
He said, “I pushed you because I saw potential.” “But I didn’t do a good job of it. “I’m sorry.”
“I hated you for it,” I told him.
He said, “I worked hard for it.”
I thought about it. “But I can’t pick who makes my mom happy.”
He remarked in a gentle voice, “She didn’t invite you because she thought it would hurt you.”
“I said softly that she was trying to protect me.”
We were silent. The wind has died down. I looked back and saw the chapel glowing with a nice light.
I said to her, “She needs you.”
He nodded.
And we all headed back inside together.
When Everything Changed
The ceremony didn’t start on time. No one seemed to care. Aunt Jenny clutched my hand tightly, like it was a lifeline.
After then, the doors opened. Michael returned and walked slowly to the front of the church. Her whole expression altered when she saw him. In the morning sun, her eyes shone like stained glass.
They swore to love each other while soft music played and golden light shone. When my mom said his name, her voice shook.
Then Michael spoke to me and looked at me.
His voice was strong yet full of feeling when he said, “To Alice, who makes me better.”
I had no idea it was coming. The words settled in my heart like something real and delicate.
A New Beginning
At the reception, which was held in a family friend’s garden with string lights and homemade food, I stood next to my mom as she hugged me.
She asked in a quiet voice, “Is this okay with you?”
I nodded. “You deserve this.”
She smiled and ran a hand through my hair as she used to. “And you too.”
Michael came up, stopped, and then laid a warm hand on my shoulder.
This time, I didn’t pull away.
That night, my mom was married. Not just to a man I used to loathe, but also to someone who saw her, loved her, and, in some bizarre twist of fate, also saw me.
I didn’t feel left out; instead, I believed that maybe, just maybe, I had found her again.
