On my wedding day, I found the main table replaced — 9 seats taken by my husband’s family while my parents were left standing.
Victor’s aunt sat laughing loudly beside two cousins. His uncle lounged arrogantly near the center. And at the head of the table sat Celeste Hale, Victor’s mother, glowing beneath crystal chandeliers in champagne-colored silk, smiling like a queen surveying conquered territory. Elena’s mother clutched her old pearl purse tightly with both hands. Her father…
