“At my son’s wedding, you pointed at me in front o…

She stumbled backward again, her hand over her mouth. Andrew finally moved.

He walked toward me slowly, like he was afraid I might disappear if he moved too fast. “Mom,” he said, his voice cracking. “Is this real?”

I looked at my son, the boy I had raised alone, the young man I had sacrificed everything for, the person whose happiness had always mattered more to me than my own.

“Yes,” I said simply. “It’s real.”

“But how?” he asked. “I don’t understand.

You never said anything. You never mentioned—”

“I know,” I said. The ballroom had gone completely quiet now.

Everyone was listening, watching, waiting for the explanation that would make sense of what they were hearing. A woman in a silver gown near the front spoke up, her voice uncertain. “But why wouldn’t you tell anyone?