My Dad, Sidelined at My Wedding

Elliott reached for the program sheet, but I didn't let go. The paper pulled taut between us with a faint crackle.

He lowered his voice. "Stop this."

"Why isn't my dad on here?"

Elliott glanced around. The staff, the makeup artist, and the coordinator were all pretending to be busy.

"This was finalized a long time ago."

"Finalized with my dad removed?"

His brow tightened. "Your dad isn't comfortable with these things. Singling him out would only make him more self-conscious."

I looked at Claire. "And her parents are comfortable with it?"

Claire's eyes went red again. "Sadie, if it bothers you, I don't have to go up. Elliott just felt that my parents have done so much for him over the years, and he's always been grateful for that..."

She trailed off and bit her lip.

Elliott immediately stepped in front of her. "Enough."

He looked at me, his voice turning cold. "We have a room full of guests out there. Do you really need to turn everything into a scene?"

Before I could answer, Dad stood up. He wiped the blood from his hand with his sleeve and tucked it behind his back.

"Sadie, stop asking." His voice was very quiet.

"If they're not going to mention me, that's fine. I don't care about that kind of thing."

He looked at me and managed a smile. "I just want you to be happy. That's enough for me."

I looked at that smile, and the words died in my throat. His sleeve was damp, there was blood on his hand, and the spot on his lapel where the red flower should have been pinned was bare, with nothing left but a tiny hole where the pin had gone through.

He was the bride's father, but he looked like the last person who was supposed to be at this wedding.

Elliott's mother, Catherine Aldridge, walked over. She glanced at the program sheet in my hand, then looked at me. The smile on her face had already cooled.

"Sadie, the ceremony is about to start." Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried far enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"When you become part of a family, the most important thing you can learn is when to let things go. Your father already said he doesn't mind. Do you really want to make everyone else uncomfortable too?"

Dad nodded immediately. "I don't mind. I really don't."

He reached for my sleeve again. "Sadie, just leave it. Please don't rock the boat."

Owen stood off to the side with his fists clenched tight. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but Dad glanced at him, and Owen's shoulders slowly sank.

That was when Theo passed by and deliberately bumped Owen's shoulder.

Owen stumbled half a step. Theo looked down to adjust the boutonniere on his chest and let out a laugh. "Don't block the way. I've got to get on stage."

He was wearing the boutonniere that had been Owen's.

Owen kept his head down. His throat bobbed once, but he didn't make a sound.

I looked at the blood on the back of Dad's hand, at Owen's bare lapel, and at the program sheet that still didn't have my father's name on it. I didn't ask again. I just folded the paper, slowly, crease by crease.

Elliott must have thought I'd finally given in, because his expression relaxed. He stepped closer and dropped his voice.

"That's more like it," he said. "If there's anything to discuss, it can wait until after the wedding."

The coordinator came jogging over with the final version of the script and handed it to the emcee. I looked up and caught the bolded line across the top of the first page.

"Special thanks to Ms. Claire Carver and Mr. and Mrs. Carver."

Dad's name still wasn't there.

The lights in the hall dimmed. The emcee's voice carried in from the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ceremony is about to begin. First, let's take a moment to recognize some very important family members who are here with us today..."

Dad straightened up instinctively. He rolled his damp cuffs inward and smoothed the wrinkles in his suit, like he was afraid he didn't look presentable enough.

But a second later, the cameraman walked past him and murmured, "Sir, could you step aside? You're in the shot of the main table."

Dad froze. He slowly backed away, one step at a time, and didn't stop until he reached the service entrance by the kitchen doors.