The room went completely silent.
Sophie stared at her.
“I was defending you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“He threatened not to come.”
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“I know.”
“Then why are you angry at me?”
Emma’s hand tightened around the microphone.
“Because Dad decided what I was allowed to do at my wedding.”
She swallowed.
“And then you decided how I was supposed to fix it.”
That stopped Sophie.
“I was trying to help.”
“I know.”
Emma’s voice cracked.
“That’s what everybody keeps saying.”
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Sophie looked like she’d been slapped.
“You thought you were standing up for me,” Emma said.
She glanced around the ballroom.
“You just made another decision for me.”
Nobody applauded this time.
Nobody moved.
Then a voice came from behind Tom.
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“Emma.”
Kristen.
She was standing beside her chair.
“I think I need to tell you something.”
Tom turned sharply.
“Kristen. Don’t.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Kristen looked at him.
Then at Emma.
“Your father told me you wanted me involved tonight.”
Emma frowned.
“What?”
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“He told me you wanted me in the family photographs.”
Tom said her name again.
“Kristen.”
She kept going.
“He told me you wanted me helping with the seating because you were overwhelmed.”
She looked down at the folded paper still sitting beside her plate.
“And he told me you wanted me to give a toast, but you were afraid to ask because you didn’t want to upset your mother.”
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
Emma looked at Tom.
Not surprised.
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Defeated.
“I told Dad you were welcome to come.”
Sophie stared at her.
“You knew she was coming?”
“Not until three days ago.”
Emma had learned only three days before the wedding that Tom planned to bring Kristen.
She’d called him.
She’d said Kristen could attend.
