As the ceremony began, Emily walked down the aisle, radiant in her wedding dress, a smile plastered on her face. But when she saw Amy, her expression shifted from joy to shock.
There was my daughter, standing right beside me.
Emily reached me, her eyes wide with fury.
“What is she doing here?” she hissed.
I kept my voice low but steady.
“What? Are you surprised to see Amy?”
“Jim, she was supposed to be… I mean….” Emily stammered, trying to recover.
“Supposed to be in a locked room? Is that what you mean, Emily?” my voice rose, and the guests started to murmur, sensing something was wrong.
“Jim, I…” she began.
I turned to the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said loudly, addressing the audience. “I have something to share with all of you. It appears that Emily and her bridesmaids had planned to lock my daughter, Amy, in a dressing room to prevent her from being a part of this wedding. They did this because Emily couldn’t stand Amy reminding her of my late wife.”
Gasps and murmurs of shock rippled through the crowd. Emily looked mortified.
“Jim, please, I can explain,” Emily pleaded, her voice desperate.
“Explain how you thought it was okay to hurt my daughter? To exclude her from this important day in our lives?” I demanded, my voice shaking with emotion.
Amy stood at my elbow, looking confused but brave.
“Emily, I thought you loved Amy as much as you claimed to love me. But your actions show otherwise.”
“Jim, I was just… I didn’t want to be reminded of your wife,” Emily’s voice trailed off.
“Of my past? Emily, my past is part of who I am. Amy is a part of who I am. And if you cannot accept that, then you don’t belong in our future,” I declared, my decision made.
The room fell silent.
Emily’s bridesmaids exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do.
“What now, Jim?” Emily asked me, her shoulders slouched.
“This wedding is off,” I announced. “I will not marry someone who would go to such lengths to hurt my child. We’re done here.”
Tears filled Emily’s eyes, but she knew there was no arguing with me. Not when it came to my daughter.
Emily turned and walked out, her bridesmaids trailing behind her.
I knelt down to Amy’s level, hugging her tightly.
“No one will ever come between us, sweetheart,” I whispered.
The guests, still in shock, began to applaud. I stood up, took Amy’s hand, and led her down the aisle, not as a bridegroom but as a proud father who stood up for his daughter and his family.
The following day, I took my daughter out for breakfast. I needed to have a moment alone with her, ready to answer any questions she may have.
“Are you sure it was a good idea not to marry Emily?” Amy asked, pouring syrup onto her waffles.
“Yes, sweetheart,” I declared clearly. “Do you think it would have been right to marry Emily after she locked you in a room during the ceremony?”
Amy shook her head slowly, and picked up a strawberry.
“No,” she replied. “But she did make you happy, didn’t she?”
“For a moment,” I said truthfully. “But when I thought about what lengths she would go through, just to make herself happy? No, darling, then she did not make me happy.”
“So, you don’t blame me?” she asked me solemnly.
“Not at all,” I replied, reassuring her as much as I could.
I knew that my daughter would struggle with this. I knew that she would think about this from all angles. She embodied everything my late wife did.
“I’m glad, Dad,” she said, smiling at me.
And in that moment, I knew that I had done right by my daughter.
What would you have done?