I knew something was wrong the moment Henry saw me outside the church and looked through me, not at me.
He stood at the entrance in a black tuxedo, one hand gripping the brass door handle while white flowers spilled over the arch behind him. Music floated from inside. Guests laughed. Somewhere beyond those doors, my only son was about to become someone’s husband.MusicThat is what mothers do when their hearts start cracking. We smile first. We ask questions after.
“Henry,” I said, smoothing my navy dress. “Baby, look at you.”
He steppedHe stepped in front of me.
“Mom,” he said quietly, “you can’t be here.”
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. I even laughed a little, because surely my son was not blocking me from his own wedding.
