“Why would you let that feeling determine whether your mother attends our wedding?”
Lauren wiped her eyes.
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“That your parents would think you were marrying beneath you.”
He stared.
“Did you think I believed that?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I could keep everything separate.”
He looked at the photograph.
“Lauren, you used to tell me stories about Marilyn all the time.”
“I know.”
“You were proud of her.”