Brandon looked between us with growing alarm, clearly trying to recalibrate everything he thought he knew about me. “Mother, what is he talking about? You never mentioned any of this.”
“There are a lot of things I never mentioned, Brandon,” I said quietly, years of hurt finally finding voice. “Apparently, I wasn’t considered important enough to merit in-depth conversation. You’ve barely spoken to me in three years except to tell me when to arrive and where to sit.”
The barb hit its mark. My son had the grace to look embarrassed, color rising in his cheeks.
“But I’m curious,” I continued, “why my personal relationships are suddenly of such urgent interest to you. Twenty minutes ago, I was an embarrassment to be hidden in the back row. Now I’m worth interrupting your reception to interrogate?”
Vivien flushed, her composure cracking slightly. “That’s not what we—we just want to understand who this gentleman is and what his intentions are regarding you.”
“I’m here,” Theo said, his voice taking on an edge of steel beneath the pleasant surface, “because Eleanor deserves to have someone who appreciates her remarkable qualities at her son’s wedding. Someone who recognizes her worth and treats her accordingly.”
The implicit criticism was impossible to miss. Brandon shifted uncomfortably, but Vivien rallied with the determination of someone fighting for social survival.
“Mr. Blackwood, I’m sure you understand this is a family celebration. Perhaps it would be more appropriate if you—”
“If I what?” The steel underneath became more pronounced. “If I left and allowed you to continue treating Eleanor as though she were some kind of inconvenience you’re obligated to tolerate?”
“Now see here—” Brandon began, his lawyer’s instinct to defend kicking in.
“No, you see here,” Theo interrupted, his voice quiet but carrying unmistakable authority. “I’ve watched for the past hour as both of you systematically ignored and dismissed one of the finest women I’ve ever known. Eleanor raised you, sacrificed for you, loved you unconditionally through every challenge. And this is how you honor her? By seating her in the back like she’s nobody important?”
The words I’d longed to hear someone say—the defense I’d hoped my son would mount but never had—hung in the garden air between us.
“You don’t know anything about our family dynamics,” Vivien snapped, her composure fracturing further.
“I know enough,” Theo said coldly. “I know Eleanor was treated like an afterthought at her own son’s wedding. I know your society friends have been whispering about her all afternoon while you did nothing to defend her dignity.”
“She had an escort,” Brandon protested weakly. “We assumed she’d made arrangements—”
“You assumed wrong,” I said quietly. “But then, you haven’t asked me much of anything lately, have you, Brandon? You haven’t asked about my life, my health, whether I’m lonely in that apartment since your father died. You haven’t asked if I’m okay.”
The hurt in my voice must have gotten through some of his defenses, because for the first time all day, my son really looked at me—not as an obligation to be managed, but as a person with feelings that could be wounded.
“Mom, I didn’t realize—”
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