It was a strange request, I know, but I trusted my son’s intuition.
The only glimpse I’d had of his bride-to-be was from a blurry photo he texted me shortly after the proposal.
In the image, her face was turned just enough that only her cheek was visible, pressed against Derek’s shoulder. I remember squinting at the image, trying to make out the tiny birthmark he said she had, but all I could see was a dark smudge.
Still, I thought she looked sweet enough. Kind, maybe.
And she made my son happy — that was enough for me.
Until the moment I saw her walk down the aisle.
Continue reading…
