Wendy made it clear from the start: my grandson Alex wasn’t welcome — not at her wedding, not in her home, not in her life. My son Matthew went along with it, but I couldn’t. From the very first brunch, she never once asked about Alex, Matthew’s five-year-old boy. Two weeks before the wedding, I invited her for tea, hoping she’d understand how important Alex was. Instead, she smiled politely and said, “It’s not really a kid-friendly event.”
On the wedding day, I dressed Alex in a tiny gray suit, clutching a bouquet to give Wendy flowers as a gesture of kindness. But the moment we arrived, she pulled me aside, angry that he was there. Calmly, I reminded her that this was his father’s wedding too. She insisted Alex wouldn’t be part of the photos, claiming it wasn’t “his place.”
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