At My Daughter’s Wedding, My Husband Gave His Mistress My Seat and Told Me to Sit in the Back—Then the Groom’s Father Walked Past Him and Said, “Laura, I’ve Finally Found You”

I would not argue.

But I would not sit in the tiny chair either.

I would move my own place card.

Sit beside Penelope’s aunt.

Or Charles’s wife.

Or alone at a proper table.

Anywhere I chose.

Not because refusing the chair would have changed Tristan.