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I was wrong.
The cake was cut.
Emma and Michael had their first dance.
For a while, I started to believe the worst was behind us.
Then the DJ picked up his microphone.
“And now we’d like to invite the bride and her father to the dance floor.”
Tom stood.
Emma did too.
Then—
“Wait.”
Sophie’s voice came through the speakers.
Every head in the ballroom turned.
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She was standing beside the DJ.
Microphone in hand.
Emma went still.
“Sophie,” I said.
Too late.
“Before they do this,” Sophie said, “there’s something everyone should know.”
Tom’s face changed.
“Put the microphone down.”
Sophie ignored him.
“Emma originally asked Uncle Daniel to join this dance halfway through.”
A murmur moved through the room.
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Daniel stared at her.
Emma had gone white.
“She changed her mind,” Tom said.
Sophie looked directly at him.
“No. She didn’t.”
“She canceled it because you told her that if Uncle Daniel danced with her tonight, you wouldn’t come to the wedding.”
Nobody moved.
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Not Tom.
Not Daniel.
Not Emma.
Every eye in the ballroom seemed to turn toward my ex-husband.
Sophie lowered the microphone slightly.
“Uncle Daniel taught me to drive. He helped Emma move into her first apartment. He showed up every time this family needed him.”
She looked at Tom.
“And you made your own daughter choose between honoring him and having her father at her wedding.”
For one terrible second, I understood exactly what Sophie thought she’d done.
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She thought she’d freed her sister.
Then Emma walked across the dance floor.
Straight toward her.
“Give me the microphone.”
Sophie smiled nervously.
“Emma—”
“Give it to me.”
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Sophie did.
Emma turned toward the room.
Then toward her sister.
“I love you.”
Sophie’s smile returned.
Emma’s didn’t.
“But don’t ever do that to me again.”
