Chapter 7
After the ceremony, my mother tried to take photos.
Not with Dad.
With Stephen.
With Richard.
With her family.
“Emma, stand here,” she said sharply.
I was still holding Dad’s bouquet.
Dad stood a few feet away, trying to give us space.
Always giving space.
Too much.
I turned to him.
“Dad, come here.”
My mother stiffened.
“Emma, we need one nice family photo.”
“Yes,” I said. “We do.”
I walked to Dad and took his arm.
Maya’s father offered to take the picture.
I handed him my phone.
My mother’s smile froze.
“Thomas doesn’t need to be in every photo.”
“He needs to be in this one.”
Richard muttered, “Unbelievable.”
I looked at him.
“Security is still here.”
He shut up.
The photo was taken.
Dad and me in the center.
Mom on one side.
Stephen beside her.
Richard slightly behind, angry and red-faced.
It was not pretty.
May you like
But it was honest.
Sometimes honest photos matter more.
