Lauren reached for my hand.
I let her take it.
For the first time in months, her fingers felt familiar.
The ceremony resumed shortly afterward.
Not perfectly.
There were whispers.
A delayed schedule.
A visibly shaken bride.
But the vows belonged to Lauren and Ethan.
I sat near the front at Lauren’s request.
Not in a place of honor.
Not on a throne.
Just a seat beside people who knew I was her mother.
Margaret remained across the aisle.