I remembered every single phone call I had ignored or cut short because I was too busy planning my lavish wedding.

I vividly remembered Christina standing in my kitchen six months ago, looking at me with desperation.

“Dad, please, I am begging you on my knees, do not marry this woman,” she had pleaded with tears in her eyes.

And back then, I had harshly replied, “You do not get to dictate who I choose to love, Christina.”

Her eyes had filled with painful tears, and she had softly whispered, “I know I cannot, Dad, but I am just trying to stop you from making the meanness mistake of your entire life.”

I had simply turned my back and walked out of the room.